


Extreme Measures

by Kabal42



Category: Marvel 616, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alcoholic Tony Stark, Alternate Universe - Book/Movie Fusion, Artificial Intelligence, F/M, M/M, POV Alternating, Plotty, Slow Build, Team
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-21
Updated: 2014-01-30
Packaged: 2017-12-09 03:27:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/769440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kabal42/pseuds/Kabal42
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As the Avengers battle an unknown enemy, Tony begins to crumble under the weight of the many demands on him, and Steve learns that while the world still needs Captain America, there's also a place for Steve Rogers. Sometimes, life as a superhero means going to extreme measures.<br/>(Written pre Iron Man 3.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is finished, and will be posted irregularly to give myself and the betas a chance to clean up left-over typos etc., but rest assured, it is actually finished ;)
> 
> It has been in the works for a while now, with ideas reaching back to before Avengers came out. It is mostly MCU-based, but is perhaps best described as an MCU/616 fusion. 
> 
> To clarify, the end pairing is Steve/Tony, there will be explicit scenes later on and some violence is to be expected along the way as well.
> 
> Special thanks to Warren Ellis. If I ever get the chance, I'm buying that man a bottle of absolutely amazing whisky. He is a great inspiration and part of why I even read comics in the first place.
> 
> My betas Calvinahobbes and Whizzy are awesome, fantastic people who took on this huge work. I owe them cookies, drinks and all sorts of favours now - and they have my undying gratitude.

Keeping the big "A" on Stark Tower had not initially been the plan; there’d just been something about it. That lone letter, hanging over New York City, shining down on Grand Central Terminal like a beacon. So Tony had quietly edited the designs for the rebuild and let it stay that way. And just like that it was no longer Stark Tower, but Avengers Tower. Slowly, that became its name, and though it was never made official, it was fitting. Now everyone knew that up there, looking out over the city, were the Avengers.

Inside the tower, things were far less organized and streamlined than the people looking up at the sleek glass facade probably imagined. Housing a bunch of superheroes wasn't all that simple, and redoing the top floors of the tower to accommodate them was no mean feat. Especially not when they were a working team at the same time - or trying to be. Something always seemed to be going on; the mood of the place fluctuated between busy and frenetic. Tony couldn't really remember when he'd last had serious downtime.

It wasn't that Tony agreed with their detractors that the Avengers attracted or caused trouble - and he'd personally attracted it for years already – but it did feel like even more weirdness was hitting the US, and especially NYC, lately. Which was why he wasn't as surprised as he should've been when the alarm in his Avengers badge went off while he was having an early morning shower.

The noise, like an old car horn pressed down hard, blared through the bathroom, bounced off the white tile walls, reverberating and deafening.

"Mute! Mute!" Tony yelled at the damn thing, and with a delay of a few long seconds, silence fell. "Ugh..." He let his head fall back against the wet wall of the shower and closed his eyes, allowing himself two seconds of luxurious warm water. "Water off." He stepped out of the shower, absently rubbing the muscle near the arc reactor. It was always slightly sore, even though he didn't consciously notice it any more.

"JARVIS, what's the emergency?" he asked, quickly drying off and half running into his bedroom. Pepper was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking slightly shell-shocked, hair sticking out at odd angles. "Sorry, Pep." The alarm must have startled her, if it hadn’t outright woken her up. She waved a hand at him, dismissing his concern. Her eyes had dark rings around them, visible even in the dim light of the bedroom.

"Emergency around Battery Park, lower Hudson River and the islands," JARVIS said. Tony yanked on the black conductive undersuit to the Iron Man armor. "The team is assembling in the kitchen."

"Tell 'em I'll be there in ten seconds," Tony said, struggling to get into the damn thing. They lived in his house, he was supposed to be the quick, efficient one, and yet he was always last to be ready. Even without being caught while showering.

"Done," JARVIS said. In the distance, Tony could hear the rumble of Thor's voice. Probably impatient as usual.

"Be careful," Pepper said and Tony shot her a quick smile.

"For you, always," he said before he ran out the door.

The kitchen was one level below, and he took the stairs, sliding on the bannister to get there as fast as possible. Landing at a run, the jolt tugging at the weight in his chest, he slammed the door open and was in the kitchen in a matter of seconds.

"Ah! We are all here," Thor said, looking very satisfied. "Shall we go?"

Steve looked around, his battle face already on. "Are we all ready?" He glanced at Tony in the undersuit, Natasha, checking the charge in her bracelets, and Clint strapping on his quiver. "Good."

"What are we up against?" Tony asked. "Do we know?"

Steve shook his head. "Not exactly. Our intel says huge, numerous and dangerous." There was a concerned line creasing his forehead, a look that absurdly reminded Tony of someone's father. "Is the jet ready, JARVIS?"

"Engines are running, Captain," JARVIS replied.

"Good." Steve looked around. "Natasha, Clint, with me. Thor, you fly. Tony, carry Bruce. If this is really is as big as I fear, it might be most efficient to drop him on it. Is that all right with you Bruce?"

"Yeah. Okay." Bruce, standing towards the back of the room, looked nervous. He almost always did when it was time to let the Hulk out. Tony nodded to him across the room.

"Good. You know what to do." Steve led his delegation to the roof, while Thor, Tony and Bruce made for the platform. Tony deployed the suit while running, so Thor only got a minimal head start on him, even with the time it took to grab Bruce and get airborne.

It was pure chaos by the waterfront. Their intelligence had failed to mention that 'huge' meant 'the size of a destroyer-class ship' and that 'something' meant 'enough giant squid to make Jack Sparrow piss his pants'.

While not the worst fight Tony had ever seen, it was by far the messiest and dirtiest. After ten minutes, Iron Man was knee-deep in squid ink, green blood and goo - and getting hopelessly stuck. It was like walking in jello. Black Widow couldn't get close enough to make much difference, but she fared better than Hawkeye. He got caught and spent five minutes hanging upside down before Hulk tore off the tentacle holding him. Apparently squid didn't react much to arrows that didn't explode, and Hawkeye ran out of those fast. The creatures wreaked havoc on the surroundings, tearing up the seawall and uprooting trees. In the distance, Ellis Island was also under attack, and Tony wasn't sure any of the Avengers could get there in time to avoid casualties.

The one thing that did work was Thor's lightning. The hammer went through the creatures, often without doing much more than slow them a little. But the lightning. Oh boy. It fried them. The promenade at Battery Park reeked with the smell of calamari, tar-like blood and the ozone from lightning bolts. Steve pulled the rest of them back and let Thor and Hulk do their thing while the others ran clean-up, damage control and protection of civilians.

"Figures," Tony said, doing a fly-by to scan the things, as Thor took out yet another of the creatures. "There's a chip somewhere in them. Wanna bet it's some kind of control device?"

"Make sure you get one to analyze," Natasha said.

"Yeah, you dig through five tons of squid meat to get it then." Tony had little doubt he'd be the one to end up doing it, no matter what he said.

After they figured out how to kill them, it went pretty fast and smooth. They had a close call when one of the things hit Liberty Island and grabbed several tourists. Steve sent Hulk to smash the squid and Tony to grab people when they were dropped. Tony thought it worked surprisingly well, though not everyone took kindly to being snatched up like that. Had it been possible for a human to dent Tony’s armor, he would have looked like a golf ball afterwards.

Tony completely lost track of time during the battle, but the sun was a good deal higher in the sky when they were done. The coast guard pulled up and began clearing the area of squid, which Tony was very grateful for. He didn't want to deal with pulling the dead creatures out to sea or whatever you did with that much dead animal, especially since he still hadn't had breakfast.

"Whew. I'm glad that's done." Clint stretched, and Tony could hear a few joints pop. "Can we get food now?"

Steve smiled, tired too, but it was a sure sign he was relieved. "We can. I think we all need it. That was a job well done, team."

"Food sounds good," Tony agreed. "Just not seafood. Please?"

"Agreed," Clint said. "I don't ever want to see anything like this again."

"We also need to bathe," Natasha added, nose wrinkling. "We stink."

"Seconded," Tony said. The smell was overpowering, even inside the suit. "How about we fly home then?"

"Hulk walk," Bruce muttered next to him. "Hulk swim first."

"You do that," Steve agreed, keeping his voice mild. Hulk huffed, nodded and jumped into the water. Tony could see the waves he made as he swam around the south point of Manhattan. He expected that by the time he got near the tower, he'd be calm enough for Bruce to emerge.

"I'll send Happy to look for him," Tony said. "The chance of a cab picking him up when he's half-naked and dripping wet is pretty slim." Inside the helmet he got a confirmation that JARVIS had picked up the conversation and was relaying the instructions to Happy.

Tony was rewarded with a pat on the back from Steve. "Good. Let's clear the area."

"I need to grab one of those chips first," Tony said with a sigh. "That one over there looks like it's torn apart enough that I might be able to find it..."

The others stuck around while Tony used the armor's scanners to get a precise location for the chip, then cut through to it with lasers, close enough that he could pry it free by hand afterwards.

The three non-fliers departed in the quinjet, while Thor and Tony took off. "Iron Man taking a brief detour," Tony reported via their internal communication; the most secure system in the world, he'd built it himself. The others were covered in sludge, but he wasn't - his armour was. So he found himself a car wash and cut to the front of the line. No one protested - probably because of the stink.

There was something intensely undignified about this mode of clean-up, but what the hell could he do? It wasn't like he'd fit in the bath, at least not without cracking tiles, and he wasn't replacing them again. He’d finally got his apartment back, no more construction workers around; he was not risking damage again so soon. The owner of the car wash gave him a freebie in exchange for taking a picture with him afterwards. It was a good deal, especially because he wasn't in the habit of carrying money in the armor. Taking off again, he was pretty sure he could hear intense discussion break out. There'd be photos of this on the gossip sites in less than an hour.

Steve, Natasha, and Thor, were gathered in the kitchen when he returned, in various stages of dampness and comfortable clothes, sitting around the large metal table. Tony was exhausted, but catching sight of them through the window as he flew by still made him feel good. There was something about them. This group of people. The sheer odds against them working together, yet they did. It brought a smile to his face.

"Hey, gang." He waved before shooting up another floor to the platform where the armor was peeled off him. It looked pretty shiny now. Pepper was nowhere in sight when he entered the penthouse, but JARVIS relayed a message from her while Tony showered and dressed.

"Hi, Tony," Peppers voice spoke over the speakers. "Hope you got it all sorted. I just checked the news, it looked like you all had a handle on it, but yuck... Make sure you leave that mess outside. Please?" Tony chuckled. He'd have to tell her about the car wash. "Anyway, don't get hurt, and come back safe. I'll be in the office and in accounting most of the day and then I have a business dinner, so don't wait up. See you tonight."

Simply hearing her voice like that made Tony smile to himself. Also, given that she wouldn't be home, he felt like he might try and coax the others into some R&R tonight. Today. Once he'd eaten.

Downstairs, Clint had joined the others. Tony entered in the middle of an animated telling of how the squid had grabbed Clint's ankle and shaken him. Laughter ensued, and somewhere in the middle of shared stories and blow-by-blows, Bruce appeared as well. It was very easy to forget how the day had begun.


	2. Chapter 2

Being able to relax after a battle was something Steve had learned to appreciate in the war. More than the others appeared to do, he cherished moments like their group breakfast after the fight. The rest of the team didn't have the same reasons to, the same kinds of memories. Not that they'd had easy lives, any of them, but war and covert operations were different things. For them, the only war they’d seen was that one battle in New York, and as spectacular as it had been, it was not the same as a prolonged conflict. Thor was the one who came closest to understanding; he knew what a group of brothers in arms was.

Looking around at them that morning - not so much his platoon as his fellows, not quite friends but definitely his equals - he felt a growing warmth towards them that he hadn't expected to feel ever again. Not in this age, when everything seemed to shift and change every moment, where connections were different from what he’d known. Now he was finding that some things hadn't changed after all.

There were little things like learning that Thor could sing, or that Clint was a pretty good cook that made him feel connected, grounded. They could share moments of sitting together doing simple tasks, each on their own and yet together. It was almost like a camp, but in a luxurious building that still felt like a fantasy to him. These people were becoming an anchor for him in the middle of a world that still felt unreal and unreachable.

One of the things Steve had taken a little while to adjust to, and was still puzzled by, was the S.H.I.E.L.D. chain of command and exactly how he'd been folded into it. It ran parallel to any other entity, operating, it seemed, dually as a UN and US force. Though he'd studied the various agencies in the present-day USA (of which there was a disturbing amount), he hadn't been able to figure it out. He was pretty sure that was because it was meant to be vague, which wasn't something he liked all that much. With the Avengers operating tangentially even to S.H.I.E.L.D. itself, he was at times bothered by the legality and legitimacy of their operations.

One thing he did understand perfectly, however, was that he was still a military and national symbol. Exactly what that meant now was another matter entirely. The US was fighting a war for reasons most people either doubted or didn't understand, and patriotism meant something it hadn't in his time. Still, he felt a deep kinship with the men and women serving in the US armed forces, not least because every single living person he'd left behind when he’d gone down had been in the service.

Whatever it was, this status of his came with obligations and duties. Some were formal, but the ones he was the most aware of were the informal ones, when regular folks reached out to him. They were so easy to miss or get wrong, with personal consequences for innocent people as a result. He had to judge each instance individually. When was it a matter of integrity or honor that deserved his respect or attendance, and when simply a grab for attention? This morning, a day after the Avengers had had one of their stranger encounters, Steve had one such informal duty to attend to.

Steve looked in the mirror and straightened his jacket. The dress uniform someone – most likely Director Fury – had thought to equip him with was the exact style of the one he'd had in the war. A replica, more than standard issue, and tailored to fit him. The effect was obvious to anyone with eyes, and while Steve didn't like getting special treatment, he had always had to have his uniforms altered. Even he had to admit it made sense to make him look his part as well as possible.

He took a last look around. The apartment in the Tower was nice, both delicately brought back in time with wallpaper and furniture from the ‘30s and ‘40s, and yet full of so many new details it still felt like an illusion. In his uniform, Steve felt like his body inhabited the same kind of neither-nor mix of time and place. "Lights and stand-bys off," he said, leaving the room.

The hallway was bright with the light shining in through the large windows. Everything shone in it. The place even smelled brand new, a mix of the smell of new plastic and the fake floral scent of modern soap. He slowed, looking out of the huge panes of secured glass. Even here, several floors down from the top, the view over New York City was great. Life below looked so normal, it was hard to remember that only yesterday there’d been a major threat to the city. Steve sped up again, walking quickly past still-unused rooms until he reached the stairs. He took them two at a time, heading up one floor to where the communal area was located. It was always a good bet he'd find Clint up there, either in the kitchen or in front of the TV, and Steve needed a lift.

A quick look around yielded no trace of him. All Steve found was Thor reading the Bible, which was in itself somewhat strange. He was just about to ask JARVIS where he might find Clint when someone whistled behind him, the exact way soldiers used to when they saw the girls in their skirts.

Steve spun around and found himself faced with a slightly rumpled-looking Tony, cradling a mug the size of a German beer glass. The light was behind him, giving his dark hair a golden edge and his skin a warm glow. Part of Steve wanted to draw that, commit it to memory through the process. There was coffee in the mug, his nose informed him. Tony seemed to be able to subsist solely on coffee and scraps he scavenged from the fridge at odd hours.

"Off to see the Queen?" Tony inquired, teasing smirk appearing over the rim of his mug.

"Arlington," Steve muttered. There was something very unsettling about being the target of the look Tony reserved for flirting, usually - but not exclusively - with Pepper. Steve was not used to being in that spotlight. "Funeral," he added, and straightened up again, finding his equilibrium once more.

Tony's entire expression changed. "Oh." He frowned, a touch of something akin to worry appearing on his face. "Er. Okay. Whose?"

"A young woman who served in Afghanistan," Steve explained. "I got a letter from her parents. She... she was hoping to meet me some day." He made a face and sighed. "I can't not go, you know."

Tony nodded. "Of course," he said, a cloud slipping across his face, erasing the emotion from his eyes. He sipped his coffee slowly. "It's good of you. How many have you been to this month so far?"

Steve thought back for a second. "Three," he said. "So far." Tony nodded again, slightly absent now. It was not Tony's style to engage with everyone. It wasn't that he didn't care, not exactly, but it could be annoying when he zoned out because the subject was unpleasant. They'd all attended far too many funerals and memorial services in the wake of the battle over New York, but the others didn't get the same kinds of requests Steve did. "Actually, I was looking for Clint," he said, trying to break free of the uncomfortable moment. "I need a ride to Washington."

"I haven't seen him. But we have to teach you to fly the jet soon. Remind me?"

"Yeah." Steve couldn't help return the smile this time; Tony's smiles were like that. "I will. I guess I'll go see if he's in his quarters."

"I am afraid you will not find him, Captain Rogers." JARVIS’ voice inserted itself into the conversation. "He left seven minutes ago and did not state his purpose."

"Oh, shoot." Steve had counted on Clint to be around. He always was, unless S.H.I.E.L.D. had called on him (and Steve knew they hadn’t), making no secret about how much he loved living in a luxury apartment in one of the best pieces of real estate in the city, if not the entire nation.

"Bad luck." Tony cocked his head, looking at Steve. "You really do want to go, don't you?"

"Yeah..." Steve made a face. "It matters. Someone lost their child, sibling, partner... perhaps even parent... If I can do anything at all to help, even if it's just being there, I have to."

For two seconds, Tony just looked at him, then he nodded. "Can you wait five minutes? I need to grab a few things."

"Sure... but." It took Steve a second to catch up. "Thanks, Tony." This time the smile he gave Tony was far warmer.

"Don't thank me yet. You'll have to wait around for me out there," Tony warned, already on his way out of the room. "If I go to Washington I have to stop by some business associates or Pepper will skin me alive. So I can't pick you up as fast as you might like."

. . .

As it happened, Steve made the most of having to wait for Tony. Visiting Arlington National Cemetery had been on his agenda for a while, but he'd never got around to it. Drafting someone to take him there would have been awkward, and Steve wasn't sure he would want anyone else to interfere with his visit. It was personal and he wanted to keep it that way.

The service itself was as terrible as they all were. There was no such thing as a good funeral, as far as Steve was concerned. There could be fitting ones, the kind that celebrated a great life, but none were good in the true sense of the word. That it was a young person who had died only made it harder. There was no comfort to be found in that. Steve kept to the edge of the group of mourners, not wanting to intrude on their grief. The moment was emotional for him, but chiefly because of the memories it evoked - the grief of the young woman’s loved ones was fresh and real, and he did not want to look as if he could in any way feel what they did. The place and the reality of war and death pressed in on him, and it took a considerable amount of willpower to stay and remain calm.

Standing there made him question what he was doing once again. How could he pick up the mantle of Captain America when he wasn't even sure what America was anymore? How could he pretend to know the experience of today's soldiers when it was so drastically different from his own? He had tried to argue that he should see action, but no-one would take him up on it. The reasons were never explicitly stated, but he gathered it was a mix of worrying they'd waste a national icon on some inglorious cause – and that wherever he was deployed, his presence would be seen as an escalation. Probably more the latter; Steve had few illusions that powerful people wouldn't try to use him if they could, so there had to be reasons they didn't. All he could do right now was try to be the good man Abraham Erskine had urged him to be. Was America good? Had it ever been? A nation was a concept, an amalgam of its people and their ideas. As such, it could not truly be good or bad, but people could collectively lean towards good or evil. In his heart, Steve truly did believe that people, here as elsewhere, wanted good things. That evil wasn't something people aspired to. This, ultimately, meant that America, too, was good. What he had to do was try to provide an example that both showed that, and inspired people to be even better.

That also proved his right - no, his duty - to attend this funeral service. This woman had thought he was worthy to be her idol, and she had died for America. If he really wanted to be the kind of man who could inspire, he should also own up to the fact that his inspiration might lead people to sacrifice their lives. 

The flapping sound of the flag as it was removed from the coffin brought him back to the present. Seeing people say their last goodbyes was heartbreaking, and being there, without that kind of personal engagement was strange beyond words. But he felt his presence might have made a difference when the young soldier's mother grasped his hand on her way towards the cars and squeezed it so hard he felt it long after. She was past words, he could tell, but he didn't need any and neither did she. It was enough that he squeezed back and walked her to her car. He watched her drive away, clutching the folded flag in her lap.

Still filled with the strange brand of transferred grief, Steve wandered the cemetery until his head cleared enough for him to get his bearings. The nice weather felt wrong, almost offensive, with its bright sunshine and pleasant wind. It was sobering to see the amount of graves, to know that they extended beyond what could easily be seen. The many beautiful memorials, dedicated to wars and to specific groups, weighed on his mind. So many lives lost. Aimless wandering led him past the Tomb of the Unknowns, and his thoughts went to the many families who never had their sons returned to them, some because Hydra weapons had obliterated any trace of them. Until then, he hadn't realized there were specific people he needed to remember, but now that he stood here, it was clear to him.

All it took was a simple search on his phone, and he knew where to go. It wasn't far. Steve walked briskly, then slowed as he found the right row. There was a large cenotaph, inscribed with names of those lost during SSR-led special ops, erected relatively recently. His heart felt heavy and beat too fast; he wasn't entirely sure how he managed the last few steps.

Steve’s eyes ran over the inscriptions, searching. He crouched down, low enough that he could touch the grass before he saw the name. James Buchanan Barnes. There were dates, rank, and a cross as well. Steve traced the letters with a finger and felt a surge as if a low current was running through it, a moment of connection to the man who was remembered here. Never mind that there was no body, this was where Bucky was in the sense that mattered – to those who'd known and loved him. He could feel his eyes burning behind closed lids and his chest was uncomfortably tight. When he looked up a few minutes later the light felt very bright and he was grateful no-one was nearby. He looked around and saw nothing but graves from the last years of the war, _his_ war. The white stones danced in front of his eyes for a few long minutes. There were so many things he wanted to say, but no words would come. All he could do was try to breathe.

A couple of website checks later, Steve had nearly given up on searching for men he'd known. It was only because the logo on the phone reminded him that he thought to look for Howard Stark. He knew what had happened to Howard, though only from the brief, cold summary of a S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel file. The fact that he had been buried with military honors warmed Steve a bit.

The site was easy to find. Stark's wife was buried with him, and the matching dates of death were sobering reminders of the terrible crash that had killed them. "I wonder what happened," he said softly. "If you were happy. What happened between you and that son of yours..." The ground bore no marks of flags, no dripped wax, no wilted flowers. It was more than pristine. He doubted anyone had been here in years, save the meticulous gardeners. _"That's the guy my dad would never shut up about?"_ Tony's words were spoken in his mind, unbidden. They hadn't been meant for his ears, but his hearing was better than most people's and he'd caught them. That one throwaway comment was still the only time he'd heard Tony Stark talk about either of his parents. Not that that was odd in itself; Steve didn't speak of his, nor did the others - everyone had good reason not to. But in a way, he and Tony were both Howard's creations. They were linked somewhere in a past they didn’t share. Steve had wondered more than once what exactly that comment had referred to. He sighed and brushed a speck of dirt off the headstone, then stood again.

It was almost eerie that his phone rang at that very moment.

"Captain Steve Rogers," he said into it, ducking his head because it felt inappropriate to speak in a place like this. Even to the son of the man whose grave he stood before; or perhaps especially to him.

"All done out there?" came Tony's brisk voice, though Steve thought he detected a touch of something tired underneath. "I'm done in the city and on my way out there. Are you anywhere near the main gate?"

"Yes. I'll be there soon," Steve said. "What's your ETA?"

"Half an hour, give or take," Tony replied. "That work for you?"

"Perfect. See you soon."

. . .

Tony was completely punctual. Or the driver was, at least. Steve had just reached the gate when a large town car swung up and Tony opened the back door from inside it. "Hop in. We have one more stop before we go home."

"Stop?" Steve got in quickly and they were off, to his surprise in the direction of Washington again.

"Yep. Since we're here and-" Tony paused, head cocked again as he regarded Steve with piercing eyes. "You haven't been here before, have you?"

Steve shook his head. "Not since the early forties."

"Thought so." Tony nodded, relaxing back into the seat now he knew he was right. "You've gotta see the memorial, then."

A matter of minutes later, Steve was standing at the huge World War II memorial on the National Mall. It was almost too much. After the relative quiet of the cemetery, Steve felt uncomfortable in the middle of so many people milling around. At the same time, seeing it there, so recent and yet well-visited, made him feel more connected to this time than he'd felt before - except when he was fighting alongside the other Avengers. What they had done back then still mattered in the minds of people today. He might visually stand out in his outdated uniform, but at the same time he was just another soldier paying his respects, sharing that moment with people born two generations after the war.

Right next to him was Tony, child of another man of that same war, himself part of a later one, which only added to the gravity of the moment. While Tony kept his mildly detached expression in place, he was also quiet throughout their sojourn, and Steve had a feeling it wasn’t for show. This place had an impact on both of them.

They also visited the huge wall nearby, filled with names of people who'd died in a war lost while he slept. That was difficult to see, in a way worse than the memorial for the war he knew. Once he had believed that when they defeated the Axis powers, there might be peace. A war so destructive ought to be a deterrent. Yes, people had said the same about the Great War, but he had still hoped nevertheless. He'd been naive and thought as many had before him that war could end war. He doubted anyone believed such things any more.

When he and Tony were back in the car, headed for the airport, Steve was glad that he had gone today. However, he was even more glad to be going back home again. He had had enough memories for one day.


	3. Chapter 3

The flight home wasn't exactly good. Not that there was anything wrong with it as such, they had clear skies and a smooth flight, but Tony felt like he had tunnel vision and was staring through a fog. At least Steve seemed to be preoccupied and didn't try to engage in conversation on the way back; he spent the time sketching something on a pad and left Tony to his thoughts and piloting. The discussion he'd had in Washington weighed on him. It had been an exercise in futility. The company he was meeting with clearly didn’t have the tech they were trying to sell to him at a sufficient level of development, but what was worse was the message he’d received during his meeting. 

He’d received a call from his liaising officer in Pentagon; the generals had really put the screws on him this time. Asking – no, telling – him to start producing armored suits for them when he'd refused it repeatedly for more than a year was one thing. It was another to threaten to use the War Machine to create their own. Given that he'd kept stalling about fixing a date for a meeting, Tony probably couldn't blame them for being out of patience, but he could sure as hell blame them for being out of brain cells! Threatening him was not a good way to get results. Since he’d been in D.C. anyway, he’d met with his contact, who had been polite but given no hope for a resolution. Tony ground his teeth. The whole thing was a tired old rehash of tactics they’d tried on him before and he was sick of it. Not that it would be easy to do what they threatened, but reverse engineering a suit was a hell of a lot easier than making one from scratch, and Tony did not want his suits to be part of an arms race. He would have to speak with Rhodey soon, warn him that he might have to make some hard choices. 

With a sigh, Tony let his head fall back against the pilot's seat. Pepper wouldn't be happy either. She'd been pushing him to meet with the Pentagon soon, had even warned him she was sure something was up. If his continued refusal cost Stark Industries contracts due to pressure from the DoD he'd have a lot of making up to do. He rubbed his eyes. Too little sleep – again – and too much coffee late at night. He'd only gone to DC today because Rogers had needed a ride, prudent as it had turned out to be, and Tony had taken pity. What could you do with someone who was so damn noble he insisted on going to a stranger’s funeral just to make some other stranger less sad? All Tony could think was to help.

He glanced sideways at Steve, who was looking every bit as unruffled as when Tony had dropped him off a few hours earlier. He felt like he'd been through a wringer, while Steve looked at most a little tired. Graveyards and funerals... Tony shook his head. Seeing the main gate from the car, he’d realized that he hadn't been near Arlington since his parents' funeral some 20-odd years ago. The place served as an unpleasant reminder of all the expectations he had never lived up to, promises he hadn’t kept, and he'd been far too glad to get the hell away from there.

The quinjet set down on the roof of the tower in a perfect landing. Tony was about to head down to his apartment when Steve caught his arm just as he was exiting the plane. The unexpected touch sent a shock through him; he'd been too deep in thought.

"What?" he said, too sharply.

Steve gave his arm a gentle squeeze, oddly soothing, as if he knew Tony had been having some not-too-pleasant thoughts. "I just wanted to say thanks," he said. "I know you hadn't planned to go to DC today. By the way you look I'm guessing it wasn't a fun kind of occasion. So thanks."

"Anytime," Tony said, flicking on his best smile. "We're a team, right? Gotta help each other out and all that."

"Yes. We are." Steve said it with a firmness and weight that wasn’t lost on Tony, but he had no reply other than a nod. Steve seemed to see right through him; the look on his face plainly said that he didn’t buy Tony’s attempt to look unaffected.

"Better tell Pepper about today," Tony said by way of getting out of the grip and away from the scrutinizing eyes. "See you later."

"See you," Steve said and turned away. Tony watched him for a moment, wondering what kind of day Steve had had, and for a second regretted he hadn't asked. He disbanded the thought, filing it away somewhere, and went inside to look for Pepper.

He didn't find her in the penthouse. A quick check with JARVIS determined that she was in the office a few floors below. He debated going down to talk to her, but he knew she'd be busy and bad news wouldn't help, so he called Rhodey instead.

“What’s up now, Tony?” Rhodey’s tired voice made Tony cringe; he hated having to be the one to tell him what he was about to.

“It always seems to be the bad news, doesn’t it?” It was mostly his fault, he figured. But they were both busy.

“It does. We should talk more. But give it to me.”

“Pentagon is at it again. I spoke to someone there today. They’re flexing and puffing.”

There was a pause long enough that Tony almost asked if Rhodey was still there. “Do you think they’ll try to seize the armor?”

“I’m worried they will. They threatened to. I didn’t take it well.”

“I imagine you didn’t... Which I can’t say I disapprove of. Got any ideas?”

“None at the moment, so I figured the least I could do was warn you.” Tony raked his fingers through his hair, frustration flaring again.

“Yeah... thanks. Look, I gotta go, Tony. Long-distance flight, if you get my drift.”

“I do. Fly safe.”

“I always do. That’s where you and I differ.” Finally, Tony could hear a smile in his friend’s voice. “See you soon.”

As brief as their talk had been, Tony had at least done what he could for now. He knew very well that Rhodey wouldn't want to disobey a direct order, so this situation was a real mess. They had to hope it wouldn't come to a point where Rhodey would have to choose between his loyalties, though Tony wasn't optimistic.

All he could do now was catch up on work while waiting for Pepper. Somewhere in between redoing schematics for the new arc reactor prototype and his second drink, he fell asleep with his head on the desk. He wasn’t aware he had nodded off until someone shook his shoulder.

"Tony?" Pepper's voice penetrated the fog in his mind. "Tony, wake up. You can't sleep here..." There was a fondness in her voice that warmed his heart. He sat up to a loud crack from his neck.

"Ow..." He rubbed it. "Hey, Pep." He tilted his head back, neck still stiff and sore, and smiled up at her. "How was your day?"

She pressed a kiss to his forehead. "Fine. Busy. The usual." She stood back and held out a hand to him, which he took as he stood up. "You? No disasters today?"

"No." He remembered and frowned. "Well, not of the superhero kind..."

He could feel her tense up next to him. "Oh?"

"I went to DC," he said. "Like you've been asking me to for weeks. While I was there, I got a message from the Pentagon."

"Well, I'm glad you finally went, but I don't like the 'disaster' implication - especially not in the same sentence as ‘Pentagon’. Tony, what did you do?"

He huffed. "I didn't _do_ anything. In fact, I refused to do what they wanted. Which was to mass produce the armor for them. It told them the answer was ‘no’ and it was never going to be anything else."

"God, not again..." She sighed. Tony maneuvered them both onto the couch. "What did they say?"

"That if I didn't comply, they'd reverse engineer the War Machine instead." Tony could hear the lingering anger in his own voice. "So I told them that if they stole my tech, I'd destroy every single thing they ever made with it." Next to him, Pepper groaned. "I've warned Rhodey they might try to make a grab for it. He wasn't happy about it, but at least now he's warned..."

"Tony... I know we don't make weapons any more, but did you have to snub them that hard?"

"You know, I think I did, Pep. I mean, it's not like they haven't asked before and I've been pretty damn good about it so far. I could've taken War Machine back if I wanted to, and I haven’t stopped them using what they already have of mine. So yeah, if they can't take a polite ‘no’ for an answer, then a 'fucking hell, no, not ever' seems appropriate."

"Please tell me you didn't use those words..."

"Not verbatim."

She sighed. "Right. Okay... I guess we'll find a way to deal with having the Chiefs of Staff against us for a while - again... You know, I'm starting to feel some empathy with what Bruce might be going through."

"Apart from where no one has tried to shoot you or lock you up yet," Tony commented dryly.

"Smartass." She poked him in the side and he groaned.

"You know me so well."

"I do." She kissed his cheek. "Far too well, in fact. Are you done for the day?"

The way her hand slid along his thigh made Tony's breath hitch. He wasn't done with the schematics; he ought to look at the chip from the squid, but then again. "I can be," he said, leaning in to kiss her. He could always slip out of bed after she fell asleep.


	4. Chapter 4

The call came in via their S.H.I.E.L.D. linked warning system on the early afternoon two days after Steve's trip to DC. The alarm wasn't local, which meant they were in the jet and on their way before they even knew what it was about.

Clint was piloting, and everyone else – save Natasha who was somehow always ready – was still in various stages of getting preparation.

"Where are we headed?" Steve asked, looking around. "I assume we at least know where we're going...?"

Clint nodded. "Detroit," he said. "I'm speeding as fast as I can in this thing, so it shouldn't be long."

"Tony, how long?" Steve asked.

"A regular plane would take two hours or so. This one..." He wagged an armored hand. "Twenty minutes, give or take."

"Good. Natasha, do you have a link to S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

"Establishing as we speak, Captain." He could see her fiddling with something, and moments later a crackle in his earpiece announced a connection being reached.

"Avengers, do you copy?" Nick Fury's voice came through clearly.

Steve looked around, waited for a nod from everyone before replying. "Loud and clear, Director. Go ahead."

"May I request you sit on Stark, Captain?" Fury said. "He needs to be calm for this one." Steve glanced towards Tony. He was standing still, expression deliberately blank, arms crossed. He looked defensive already.

"It's fine, Director," Steve assured him. "Just tell us."

"You're headed to a Stark Industries plant. It's being attacked. And Captain, they're using weapons that shoot blue energy." Both of those sentences made something very cold settle in Steve's bones and brought him instantly on edge.

"Fuck," Tony muttered. "Which one? And why the hell haven’t I heard about it before?"

"Don't you know what you have in Detroit?" Clint asked, incredulous.

Tony groaned. "Of course I do! There's more than one. Not as sharp as your arrows, are you?" The tone was acidic and Steve could easily tell he was angry. 

"Ex-weapons factory," Fury added. "I believe you're using it for arc reactor parts now. You haven’t heard because we shut down communications."

If looks could kill, most of the Northeastern US would have dropped dead from the way Tony glared. "Well... good thing we're on our way then," he said. The hair at the back of Steve's neck stood up from the cold anger in Tony’s voice. "It's lucky I can't get there much faster alone than on the jet. Besides, back-up is nice." His glare took on an extra edge. “And Nick? Don’t _ever_ mess with my company’s communications again.”

"Because that's all we are to you?" Clint said. "Back-up? How about teammates?"

"Not now, Clint," Steve cut in. It was one thing for the two of them to go at it at home, but now was not the time or the place. Tony had good reason to be angry, but not to take it out on the others. Yet, Steve dearly hoped that plant didn't make the parts that kept Tony running, because Tony without his life-saving device was a very unpleasant thought.

"You done, Barton? Stark?" Fury asked.

"Affirmative, sir," Clint replied.

"Just get on with it, Nick. Tell me how bad it is." Tony's blank expression was back, and Steve wondered how he did it. What had it taken to develop defenses like that?

"It isn't looking pretty, Stark, let me tell you that. We have numerous bad guys, they have what we _think_ are genuine, functional Hydra weapons from World War Two. If it's not that, then it's something that looks a hell of a lot like it. Either way, we want them neutralized."

"And right into your expanding collection, eh?" Tony said, clearly still pissed enough to want to aggravate Fury.

This time Steve shot him a warning look. "Let’s focus on stopping these people. Anything else we need to know, Director?"

"I'm afraid that's all I have for you at this junction," Fury said. "Good luck. We'll be watching. A clean-up team is on its way for later."

"Thank you, Director. Avengers out." Steve nodded to Natasha, who ended the call. "Right. What's our ETA now, Hawkeye?" Time to switch to code names.

"Around fifteen minutes, Captain. Perhaps less if I can kick this baby a little harder."

"Kick her," Steve said. "The rest of you, strap in and stand by. I want the fliers out when we're above site. Everyone else stay here till we've touched down. Hawkeye, find us a shielded landing zone. High, if you can find one Widow and I can get down from easily."

"Copy that, Captain," Clint said.

The remaining time till they arrived felt like hours to Steve. He'd always been like that on his way into battle. It felt like seconds crawled by, like every breath lasted minutes, while his heart raced. Right up until he hit action. Then everything was fast and blurry and he was never scared - not for himself.

The Avengers hit the spot running. Thor and Iron Man were out and engaging attackers when the other four exited the plane. "Hawkeye, stay here, provide cover and overview. Hulk... Oh. Fine." Bruce had already jumped off the building, changing form in mid-air, and landed on a group of shocked enemies. "Widow, see if you can find out where they're headed, I'll help the big guns distract them, and follow you if you need me."

She was off before he'd finished the sentence, and for a while, all Steve could think of was action. His mind and body seemed to fight without him sometimes. He knew it was an effect of the serum, his heightened reaction time and analytical processes, but it was odd to experience. Like being a passenger in his own self.

It did have the bonus of giving him time to direct the others. Hulk he didn't worry about. He could probably handle even a direct hit from these weapons, but he wasn't so sure about the others. Thor, maybe, but even he would be in danger. If they hit Iron Man it would be bad. Hawkeye was relatively safe up above the action with good cover, and hopefully Widow was staying hidden. He trusted her to be sensible in a tense situation but Tony never was. As competent as he was, he was rash and didn't think before acting.

"Thor, move left. Cover that wing. Yes." Thor swooped in, and Steve dodged a few shots, took out two of the enemies with his shield, and ducked. The bastards wore some strange uniform that looked like yellow protective suits and carried what did indeed look like HYDRA weapons, though how that could be was beyond Steve. Even S.H.I.E.L.D. hadn't found any that were charged and functional. Before his eyes one of them got hit by friendly fire and vaporized, confirming Steve’s worst fears.

"Iron Man! Behind you!" Hawkeye's warning had Steve cast around the field, and he saw Tony dodge just in time. Three shots flew past him, narrowly missing. An arrow went straight into one of the shooters.

"Go for knock-outs, not kills," Steve ordered. "We need to talk to these people." That, and it wasn't necessary to kill. He'd had enough of that in war.

“Cap, talk will have to wait.” Natasha broke into the talk. “We have a situation. A group of five are in here, carrying computer equipment. They’ve tried to access a terminal without luck, but now they’re splitting up. I need help tailing them.”

“On my way.” Steve turned, running towards the plant itself. “The rest of you, finish up out here. Use caution and minimal force necessary to get the job done.”

“No need.” A red streak zoomed past Steve, right over his head and through the doors. “Those bastards have _my_ stuff. I’m getting them!”

"Iron Man! Stay your ground! Do NOT pursue!" Steve yelled, speeding up as he ran. Damn him. They needed Tony outside where his maneuverability was an asset, not inside the factory where he would be hampered. “There’s a reason Widow and I deal with ground level stuff like this!”

“Not a chance.” Tony’s voice conveyed his resolve fully.

“Widow. Status.” Steve had reached the doors. 

“I’m in pursuit of two hostiles in the northern corridor. I hear blasts to the east and presume that’s Iron Man. I saw two more head west.”

“Iron Man. Talk to me.” Steve was doing his best to hold back his anger. It was understandable that Tony wanted to protect his assets, hell, Steve wanted this place to be safe as well, but so far these people hadn’t accessed the computers and knowing Tony there would be a very high level of security for them to get through. Thus, the danger wasn’t as imminent as all that. Not enough to warrant what Tony was doing.

“Go find those to the west. I’ve got-hey!”

“Tony!” Steve could hear the sharpness in his own voice and the unmistakable sounds of battle, the zing of Tony’s repulsors being the loudest one. They could probably have avoided this fight if he and Widow had gone alone.

“Sorry, Cap. Ah. Busy.” 

“Got the two north,” Natasha reported. “Going west.”

Steve cursed silently and headed towards the east, soon guided by blasts and flashes of blue lights mixed with the larger beams from Tony’s repulsors.

There were five of them in there. Steve hit the ground rolling and came up behind the first, took him out and had time to see Tony doing his best to duck and return the shots. So far he was holding out, but only because he'd got himself behind some pretty solid cover.

The shield nailed one of those who had a height advantage, but left Steve open, so he rolled up again, closing fast to knock out another. A shot from Tony hit the third on the floor and Steve wanted to curse; Tony needed to focus on the one Steve couldn't reach!

"Above you!" he yelled. Tony got the message, but was fired upon just as he raised his hand and had to dodge instead.

Luck was really all there was to it when the next shot missed Tony as he took off, flying up, spinning to avoid another shot, and got the shooter in the chest, slamming him backwards into a wall.

"What the hell where you _thinking_?” Steve yelled at him. "Never mind. We're discussing this later. Get back out and help Thor, Hulk, and Hawkeye."

"Fuck no. I have to protect my tech." Tony was a little short of breath.

Steve glared at him. “We had a deal. I call the shots in team battles. Get out of here.” He turned his back on Tony by way of dismissal. “Widow. What’s up? There were five over here, so watch out for more than the ones you spotted earlier.”

“Got these two as well. They patched into the computer, though. We need to find out what they did.” There was a pause. “Five? They must have had another team, or infiltrated the place.”

“See?” Tony’s voice, full of defiant anger, inserted itself into the conversation. “Widow, where are you? I’m coming over there to check on the damage.”

“Cap?” The hesitation in her voice called for him to agree before she’d give the info. 

Steve turned back towards Tony again, not at all surprised he hadn’t followed the order to leave. “All right.” There was a point to it, Tony would know what to do with the computers. “I’m coming along. If we’re done outside - Hawkeye, Thor?”

Clint got back to him first. "All a-okay out here, Cap. We got 'em. Hulk's taking a break on top of the structure."

Thank god. Steve felt the first bit of relief since Tony flew into the building. "Good job. Stay put, keep your eyes on things. All of you."

"Copy that," Clint said, quickly followed by Thor's affirmative.

“I’m at the operational center of the plant,” Widow explained. “I wager Iron Man knows how to get here.”

“I do. Be there in a sec.” He held out an armored hand to Steve who grudgingly took it. 

“We’re not done talking,” he reminded Tony as they took of.

Tony hadn’t exaggerated much when he said they’d be there in a second. Steve counted no more than ten before they set down at the opposite end of the large factory hall, outside a regular-looking door. 

Inside, Black Widow was standing, leaning against a banister, two of the people in yellow gear lying at her feet with hands tied behind their backs. Tony barely spared any of that a glance before racing to the console nearby. Steve could make out what looked like extra wires plugged into it and small devices attached to those.

“Fuck it...” Tony muttered. “This looks bad...”

"We've found the plant's guards and other staff," came Clint's voice over the comm devices. "They're mostly unharmed. Clean-up crew is arriving too."

"Thanks. We're done in here. Save for... technical things," Steve responded. He caught Natasha's eye; she nodded and headed out to help direct the efforts. She'd keep S.H.I.E.L.D. off Tony's back for a while longer. Steve would watch out for him in here.

Tony's helmet was open now and he'd disengaged the glove units on the suit. His fingers were flying over the keyboard. "JARVIS, any way you can access this remotely?"

"Negative, sir." The artificial intelligence's voice was as impassive as ever, coming from Tony's helmet. Like a calming factor. "This facility was deliberately off line, as you know."

Tony muttered something Steve was sure were obscenities. "I'll do it myself, then. Are you seeing this, though?"

"I am, sir. The secondary cameras are operational."

"Good."

Steve stood back and watched, fascinated, as Tony worked. To him it might as well have been magic, it didn't matter that he couldn't know what exactly was going on. As much as he was still annoyed with Tony for being a loose cannon, this was like watching an artist. Part of Steve was itching to ask what he was trying to accomplish, but he knew far too well that's not how you create art. Interrupting Tony wouldn't serve any purpose. Various screen images flashed while Tony kept punching keys and muttering things that JARVIS occasionally answered with a word or two.

Finally Tony shut the computer down and let out a deep breath. "Damn..." He turned, and Steve could see sweat on his brow. "That was close. I'm not sure it's fixed, but there's no immediate risk to the system any longer. The on-site staff should be able to take care of it from here."

"Good." Steve nodded. Not that he knew what the risk had been. He planned to ask, but not yet. That was for debrief. First, there was something else to say to Tony. He took his earpiece out and switched it off, giving Tony an expectant look. He took the hint and did the same, even removed his helmet. "Now, I know you had good reason to want to rush in here," he began.

Tony was instantly ready to defend. "I-"

"Not yet." Steve cut him off. "I'll hear that later. And I said I know you had good reason. But that doesn't mean you can do this and endanger the entire mission. This is a _team_ , Tony. That means responsibility to everyone – we all have that. You included, no matter what it is we're doing. If it's your stuff we're trying to save or not. You do your job and stay out of the others' or you put everyone at risk. Got it?"

Tony was glaring. "Do you have any idea what would've happened if they damaged or shut this place down?" he said, anger bubbling just under the surface, present in his voice. "First off, they could have damaged the arc reactor that runs this place. That might've been _unpleasant_ if anyone was near it. It's small, thank fuck, so it would have been limited. But far worse, this place produces the arcs. If they'd fucked it up – and you know, they still might have – it would mean setting back clean energy production a year or two. Potentially it would also mean I'd have to start hand making a hell of a lot of spare parts for myself. Just in case."

Steve had feared something like that and while the thought was still chilling, it wasn't as shocking this time around. "I get that, Tony. I do. But all you accomplished by rushing ahead was that you alerted every single enemy that you were there, you made yourself a target for weapons nothing short of my shield can defend against. If you'd left it well alone, Natasha and I would've quietly taken them down, perhaps before they had time to do anything serious. You have to start _trusting_ us. We are _not_ trying to mess with you or hurt you. We are in this together. All of us! That includes you and you better start paying back in kind!"

"I do not have to do anything!" Tony shot back, and Steve could see he'd hit some kind of button somewhere. "We wouldn't even _be_ doing this if it wasn't for me!"

There was a point to that, given that Tony's private funding was what kept them going, but a warped point. "Supporting The Avengers financially is not why you're on the team," Steve told him in no uncertain terms. "We can do it without that. Less efficiently, yes, but we can. And we will if we need to. So don't even think that gives you clout." Whatever he might have done to upset Tony, this was something Steve wouldn't stand for.

Tony's eyes met his with a look that could've burned holes in steel plating. Steve met it calmly. He'd thought they'd moved past this kind of argument, but apparently not. "We've been out of touch long enough," he told Tony. "We'll discuss it later. Work it out. Speaking of, we also need to work on your reaction time." Perhaps if they did, he could also get Tony to understand that Steve was trying to get the best out of all of them. Though he admitted they'd come far since the days where Tony questioned his every decision.

"Fine," Tony spat out. "We will." It sounded a lot like a challenge, but Steve let it go. Tony would have time to cool off before they spoke again at debrief.

Outside the dust was still in the air, but the clean-up was moving along fast. S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel was doing everything from debriefing and aiding the factory staff to fixing locks and walls. Not to mention securing enemies and taking any casualties away. Thankfully, there were only a few. Steve would've preferred none. It was hard to accomplish with someone using lethal force against them, but he felt they had to try harder.

"Not bad, eh?" Clint said, standing guard by a group of captives, adjusting his arrowheads. "Another good one, Cap. Nice calls and all."

Steve nodded to him. He could all but feel Tony still seething next to him. "Thanks. But this was a communal effort. You all did good."

"Yeah, even mister slow-poke here," Clint said, shooting a very impish look at Tony.

Tony made a very rude gesture. "Fuck you too, birdie."

"No, really Cap, I don't know if you noticed, but he is really slow on the turns. Do you need a new battery, Shellhead?"

Tony plucked the arrow Clint had cocked out of his hand and snapped it between two fingers. His eyes very clearly conveyed the idea that he could do the same to body parts.

"Hey! What the hell are you doing?" Clint was understandably annoyed, but Tony didn't look back or react to his protests.

Steve put a hand on Clint's shoulder. "Give him a bit of space for now. This is his place, he's got plenty of reason to be angry." No need to tell anyone else the full story of why Tony was pissed off. "Tell me about your observations instead." Clint always teased Tony, but right now Steve had reason to want more information about Tony's performance. Usually it wasn't an issue – the armor was sufficient protection - but against these kinds of weapons it was a different matter. Who knew what they'd come up against next? Tony relied too much on the armor in the first place.


	5. Chapter 5

The tension didn't leave Tony on the way back to New York. Clint’s dig about him being slow had been the last straw. It wasn't like he did it on purpose. In fact, all tests showed he had pretty good reflexes, but the added reaction time for getting the armor to respond, either via the sensors in the undersuit or through JARVIS, was slowing him significantly. He'd been annoyed by it for a while, but after today, it was really getting to him. If this hadn’t been an attack on him, on his property, maybe he would have been more charitable. As things were, he didn’t feel like cutting anyone any slack.

Steve had a certain kind of right to point it out when someone had an issue. He was the field leader, the tactician; he didn't want to push harder than Tony could manage. It didn't make him feel better about the issues he was experiencing with the suit, but it was valid. Clint was another matter. He had no right and Tony knew he liked poking fun at him over the others, probably because Tony was as sharp and snappy as him. They constantly tested each other, and mostly it was fine. Just not today.

Tony kept to himself on the jet. No-one bothered him, which was what he wanted, but when he noticed Steve quietly having a word with Thor about leaving him alone, Tony got pissed off all over again. Why did he have to put on that damn "concerned parent" act? He might be the technical age of Tony's dad, but he looked around twenty-five and had only lived about that long. While Tony conceded his right to point out tactical errors and such, the "give back in kind" spiel was taking it too far - and he did not have any damn right to interfere in Tony's life. If he wanted to risk it, it was his to risk! That speech about being irresponsible was one he'd heard way too many times before and he wasn't the Stark who'd ended up in an accident!

Even thinking that thought, blaming his dad for the accident, made Tony feel shitty, like he'd dumped a bucket of cold water on himself. It was an awful thing to say about someone, even when they were dead and couldn't hear it. He closed the helmet and ignored the mildly concerned look from Bruce. Thank fuck Clint was piloting and busy, Tony wasn’t in the mood for more of his snappy remarks. His damn company was under attack.

The debrief back home was short and to the point. Steve didn't bring up their talk, and Clint didn't try joking again. Tony promised to update everyone when he knew what the actual damage to the plant and its systems were, and they split up. Steve caught his eye as he left, reminding Tony they had more to discuss, but Tony pretended not to see and went upstairs instead.

Pepper was waiting for him. By the look on her face, he could tell that she knew. He hid a sigh. "Armor off," he muttered, by way of explanation and stood, legs apart, arms out, while it opened, came off and returned to its storage. "So. You've heard," he said, joining her on the couch.

She nodded. "I do run this company when you're otherwise engaged – which means most of the time – so of course I know when one of our most vital assets is attacked." She took his hand, brushed her thumb over the back of it; it felt nice. "You look awful. What happened?"

"Freaks in yellow hazmat suits tried to hack into the arc plant's mainframe and do fuck knows what," he said. "I'm waiting for the onsite tech guys to get back to me about what, if any, damage they did. I _think_ I stopped them before it got really bad, but I can't be sure. Took a while to reroute data and contain the virus they unleashed in there." He allowed himself an audible sigh this time. "I should've stayed there. Seen if I could do something."

"No. It's good you're here. You can go back tomorrow if they need you. But seriously, we have good people there, some of the best in the world. They can deal with it for now."

"Yeah, okay." There was sense in that. And he was really tired. He leaned his head against her shoulder and her free hand crept up his arm and stroked the back of his neck. It did wonders for his mood.

"So tell me what else happened that makes you look like you've been through the wringer. A fight can't be it. You have those often enough."

Tony made a face. He wanted to tell her, he really did. Once they’d shared everything, but lately they’d seen less of each other and disagreed more. What if she wanted him to stop? What if she repeated what she’d said before, that he was spending too much time on the team? If she demanded he quit, would he? She was on one side, the team on the other, and Stark Industries caught in the middle. The thought of having to choose in an ultimatum was lurking in there, and he feared having to look that moment in the eye. Most of all, he feared his own priorities, because he wasn't sure what they'd be.

"Tony?" Her voice was soft, coaxing, even soothing. Yet something in it also made him hesitate.

He spoke before consciously deciding to. "Steve yelled at me for rushing into things. Clint was being his usual charming self. It was our plant and shit... Just a long day, right?" Fuck it, he wasn’t going to give details, as much as he wished he could. She’d worry and he didn’t want to add to her stress level.

Pepper's reaction didn't exactly help. She pulled away from him and looked concerned. "Tony... you've got to be careful. You know I'm not telling you to stop this, but at least listen to Steve. He knows what he's talking about. Even you agree with that."

She didn't tell him to stop, no, but something in her tone made him think she kind of wanted to. "I do agree. And he's got some points there, but..." He shook his head. "It bugs me, okay?" 

"Okay.”

She didn’t sound like that was all there was to say. “You don’t sound like it is.”

“No. No, you’re right. It’s not okay.” She turned more towards him, her eyes a little wild, and an edge he’d felt more than heard in her voice came to the front. “Tony, our company was attacked! It’s bad enough that people keep trying to... to blow you up! Now they’re trying to take out Stark Industries too. Do you know what that attack is costing us?”

Tony made a face. He hadn’t looked at reactions from the market, but he could vividly imagine. “Yeah, I have a pretty good idea, thank you...” 

“Of course...” She was containing her emotions again. Giving air to a fear she must have kept pent up until she was sure he was okay had apparently been what she needed. “We can deal with this incident. It will set us back, but it’s manageable. But what if it happens again? How often can we take hits like this? What will they go after next time?”

There was real concern in her eyes, and unlike the worry directed at his own safety, he couldn’t easily dismiss this one. “I don’t know what to say. I mean, all things considered, we got there damn fast. So as long as I protect our assets-”

“Even you can’t be everywhere at once.” She cut in, fast, and it was clear she hadn’t been mollified. “Even your entire team can’t. Tony... I know being Iron Man is important. But you’re Tony Stark too. Sometimes I wish you at least hadn’t told the entire world who you are.”

Sometimes he did too, but he didn’t believe in regrets like that. “Maybe I can’t be everywhere. But I can try. And whatever happens, I won’t let anyone take the company down.” His jaw was set, the frustration and lingering anger he, too, felt at the attack was flaring.

She looked at him for a long while. “I believe you’ll try. And I know it’s not directly your fault. This, though... it’s new to me, Tony. Being faced with something like this, as CEO. It scares me. What if I can’t deal with it? When is enough enough? Will we have to somehow separate you from the company to keep you _and_ it safe?” 

A very unpleasant feeling crept into him, coiling in the pit of his stomach. He might have handed over the reins, but it was still his company. That Pepper distinguished between him and it was unsettling. It was still a priority. “It won’t come to that.” Not while he could fight - and he could do that as long as he had his mind. “You can handle this, I know you can. Look at what you’ve done so far. Hell, you can deal with me, right?” He smiled, hoping she appreciated the joke.

"Aw, stop it." She poked his side, trying to smile, but she didn’t relax. “You’re not getting out of helping me plan for contingencies, Tony. If that’s what you’re trying to do.”

“I didn’t expect to. We’ll plan and you will make it all work. As usual.” He leaned closer to kiss her neck.

“Tony...” Her tone was half reproachful, half indulgent - something he was used to hearing. 

“Missed you today,” he muttered, nipping a kiss right where he knew she liked it, low on her neck. 

She sighed. “I missed you too, but that’s hardly new. We’re always busy, both of us.”

“More reason to make up for it.” He moved to kiss her, and she leaned into it, proving he’d at least temporarily distracted her. He was more than happy to keep doing so for the next hour or two. If he could get away with it.

. . .

The sun was hanging low over the Hudson river when Tony woke up again. He felt almost rested. There was nothing like sex to push the dreams away and let him sleep. Pepper was reading on her tablet next to him in the bed and looking amazing. So he told her that. She shushed him, but her smile said she didn’t mind.

Tony dug out his tablet and checked the reports from Detroit. "They say I contained the virus, but they haven't been able to clean the systems yet." He chewed his lip. “They’re not sure how long it will take.”

"Don't go there yet," Pepper told him. She didn't even have to look at him to know he'd been thinking just that. "Tomorrow, at the earliest."

"Oh, all right." He sat up. "Hungry?"

"Mm. I thought we could order something. Think Happy is up for a delivery? There's a new Thai place over in the Theatre District I want to try."

"Why don't you ask him?" Tony kissed her. "I need a shower."

"All right."

It wasn't exactly a lie – he did need to clean up – but he could also talk to JARVIS alone in the shower. "You heard the Captain, J. I'm getting slower."

"Negative, sir. You are the same speed as always. It is simply more noticeable against enemies the suit does not protect you from."

"That's what I meant." Tony knew he sounded testy, but JARVIS didn't mind. He was built that way. "The question is, what can we do about it?"

"The connections between the conductive suit and the armor itself are flawless," JARVIS said. “The armor responds with only fractions of seconds' delay to your body movements."

"So the only possible improvement is to make it respond like my body. Like an extension of my body, directly working with my brain."

"Neural interfacing would accomplish that," JARVIS confirmed. “If it were sufficiently advanced.”

"Pull up a list of Stark Industries cyber- and bio-ware projects," Tony said, decision made. "I want to take a look later. My eyes only! Not even Pepper can know about this."

"As you wish, sir."

Tony stepped out of the shower. There had to be a way to fix this, even if the thing that needed fixing was himself.

. . .

The morning after there was a lot of negative press, scare-talk about the safety of the arc reactors and rehashing of the "Avengers caused the alien invasion" crap. In the months since the battle over New York there had been at least as much controversy around the team as support.

"It's not the end of the world, Tony," Pepper told him over breakfast. She barely looked up from her reading, one hand holding the paper, the other her mug, "We haven’t received any official requests or even any questions. This..." she tapped the paper with a disapproving frown, "is just people who don’t know what they’re talking about."

"That might be what it is now," Tony said, leaning his elbows on the table, staring at his own warped reflection in the surface. "But it won't be long before public demand is on us to shut down - and that’s going to be publicity hell. Not to mention what the oil companies will make of it!"

"Then we deal with that," Pepper said. "Tony, look at me." He did, grudgingly. "You're a genius. You'll figure out a way to keep going. Even if the oil lobby tries to get us shut down."

"Hmf." He wasn't exactly convinced. 

She rolled her eyes. "Get over yourself." She downed the last of her coffee and stood up. "Or sit around feeling sorry for yourself. You're not going to get anywhere doing that. Don't you have something from yesterday to look at?"

He did, though he suspected she might prefer he focus on a different thing - like secure SI against another attack - but that was not the task he had in mind. A S.H.I.E.L.D. operative had delivered a crate late in the evening; two fully functional energy weapons with the magazines unloaded, along with a request that he figure out how they were made. His plan was to take them apart to find out who built or modified them, and not tell S.H.I.E.L.D. what they wanted. The Avengers might technically be a branch of S.H.I.E.L.D., but that didn’t mean Tony was going to play their game with open cards. He might as well try to work on it before Steve got him cornered, which was bound to happen some time today. There were also those tests he wanted to run on the gyroscopes and perhaps, if he was left alone long enough, he could look at that list of research projects he'd had JARVIS collect.

As predicted, Steve caught up with him later that day. Tony hadn't exactly been trying to avoid him, but he hadn't sought out the inevitable talk either. Okay, he had maybe been avoiding a little bit. At least Steve seemed to think so when he caught Tony at the workshop.

"Tony. I need a word with you." It wasn't the 'serious talk' tone, but it was close.

Tony instinctively wanted to get out of anything that began that way. "Can it wait till I've run this simulation? It's kind of important for the future of the Iron Man, and I want to see what happens if I recalibrate the gyroscope..."

"So is this," Steve said and took Tony's arm, steering him away from the holographic simulation. "We don't know when we'll be called out again, and I want you alive after that. Simulations have to take a back seat."

It was hard to argue with, so Tony decided against trying. "All right. But I can't see how you can really help. It's my problem."

"Is it?" Steve led the way to the elevator. Tony would bet anything they were going to the first basement sub-level where he'd set up the gym/target range/general practice area. "In my opinion it's a group issue if one of us is having problems. And I'm not saying you are a problem, Tony, but you might end up having one. Which is why we need to talk. And work."

Tony groaned. For a man who wasn't calling him a problem, Steve seemed terribly focused on fixing him. "And to talk to me you need to go down to the basement? Yeah, right."

"I don't need to. But it's a constructive way of doing it." Steve pressed the elevator button and yes, they were going exactly where Tony had anticipated. "I know you want to fix it all yourself. I understand that's how you're used to doing it, and that you're used to engineering your way out of problems. You also know I don’t normally have a problem with that. But this one needs a different approach."

"Yeah, because you can make me faster. You can make me better," Tony said, sarcastic.

Steve arched an eyebrow at him. "I didn't say that. In fact, your reaction time is secondary to what I want to discuss. Which is another reason we're going down here. What exactly your problems might be is no-one's business. Just as I won't tell you what I do when I train with Clint."

Tony hadn't been aware that Steve did, but nodded anyway. The approach was good and he appreciated the privacy; it was enough to make him less on edge about the whole thing. They stepped out of the elevator and straight into an open area. "So what exactly are we going to work on?"

Steve shot him an almost shy smile. "Teamwork – and teaching you how to function in a fight without your suit. It'll make you a lot better _in_ it too."

Tony felt like this should make perfect sense from the way Steve was speaking, but it didn't quite. "Can you elaborate on that?"

"Sure." Steve didn't appear at all surprised about the question. He'd led them to across the floor to the locker room and got his own gear out. "Change." It was more an order than a request. "I'll explain."

Tony was momentarily distracted by Steve changing his shirt. Okay, he'd seen it before, but that didn't mean he couldn't appreciate something that appealing when he saw it. Usually, it would be before a mission, where there wasn't really time to take a proper look, unlike right now. Besides, you don't stop liking a work of art just because you've seen it before. Some have more lasting power than others, and this was a masterpiece.

"Tony. Get a move on." Steve tossed a towel at him. Tony caught it half a second before it would have hit him in the face.

"On it, Cap." He turned to get his own stuff out of a locker. "Talk to me, then."

"Sure. Just remember this isn't a critique of you. It's simple observations. And I do this with everyone else, too. Save for Bruce – at this stage at least."

"Got it." Tony kept his back turned, mainly because he didn't need more distraction, and there was also the part where it was always kind of uncomfortable to show the thing embedded in his chest to people who weren't that familiar with it. Everyone reacted to it, and the majority had an initial negative reaction.

"Good. Because you're not a problem. I know you didn't like what I said yesterday." There was hesitation in Steve's voice. "You made a bad choice. That's all there was to that, so far. This... is really about something else."

"Okay..." Tony was glad he was dressed enough to turn around again, because now it was getting confusing and being able to read body language and facial expressions might help. "So... what is it?"

"Honestly, you can't fight - especially with others."

No confusion there, only plain truth. Damn that man and his honest face. "What?" Tony blinked. "I've been doing pretty damn well so far!"

Steve nodded. "You have. Because the suit protects you and JARVIS helps you. You've also mostly come up against things you could shoot at or outmaneuver by using JARVIS' computing power. It's not the Iron Man that can't fight. It's you, Tony. You’re great at improvising and you plan just fine when you have the time, but when you don’t...” He shook his head. “Have you ever been in a fistfight? And I don’t mean in a ring, a real one."

Tony made a face. He'd usually been pulled out of any situations that might lead to something like that. A few notable exceptions had led to some painful memories. He shook his head. "No. Not where I was really able to fight back."

There was a soft look of sympathy in Steve's eyes. "I understand. Well, we're fixing that. The fighting back part."

"I'm not useless." Something about that sympathy rubbed him the wrong way; he didn't want anyone to feel sorry for him. "I practiced martial arts for years."

"I'm not saying you are."

"Okay..." Tony looked down. There was a weight on his shoulder and he looked up to see Steve standing right there, his hand on Tony's shoulder.

"It'll give you insight into how close quarter combat works. The real kind. Where there are no rules, for your life. That in turn will help you in the armor, but it'll also mean you're able to hold your own out of it, even when you don’t have time to plan for it. Who knows when that might come in handy?"

"All right. I still fail to see how that will help with being slow and still not a team player, but hey."

"Because it'll help you appreciate how others can aid you in those situations." Steve patted his shoulder. "Come on." He led Tony along into the gym, hand still on his shoulder. "We'll work on that, too. Having each other's back."


	6. Chapter 6

Working one on one with Tony was surprisingly enjoyable. Steve had found that he gained something from these sessions, different things from each person he worked with, all teaching him to be a better leader for this team, but he had not expected Tony to be the one he had the most fun with. Truth be told, he should have insisted on this far earlier. The reason he hadn't was Tony's complete insistence on doing everything himself, and up until now it hadn’t seemed necessary to interfere with that. Getting them all to work together as a team was like balancing on a tightrope while juggling knives, and the relationship between himself and Tony had been strained for the first long while, both having leadership potential and subtly struggling for dominance. That was no longer the case. Instead they had established some kind of equilibrium between them, a division of labor that seemed to work. Now was the time to start working on getting Tony fully integrated with the rest of the team in the field instead of having him be a semi-autonomous force. Both for Tony's sake, but also because Steve would never forgive himself if anything happened and he hadn't done all he could to prevent it.

Given their history he'd expected Tony to resist the idea more than he did, and he'd expected him to argue every step of the way. To his surprise, once Tony had been convinced the idea was good, he threw himself into it, body and considerably stubborn soul.

Tony's apparent dedication wasn't the only surprise. He did in fact have a good baseline, both for close combat and for overall shape. He was extremely fit, especially for a man who slept too little and drank too much. Yet, even with that good start, it quickly became clear that he could improve. Steve’s favorite moment in his work with Tony was the first time Steve got them both into the battle simulation chamber. Tony had constructed it for them when it became clear the team was moving into the tower. According to Tony it wasn't fully done yet, but it already provided non-lethal opposition, run by JARVIS' impressive systems, and geared to fit a difficulty level set by the users. Frankly, Steve wasn’t sure what it was Tony considered unfinished about it, everything worked impeccably as far as he’d ever been able to see. He had also been surprised to learn that Tony had never actually used it aside from running tests. That little fact proved to him once again that Tony's priorities were different than his own – and not what Steve would want from a man he relied on in battle.

The first time they used the chamber – which was really badly named since it was more like a double ballroom – Steve had the specific aim to show Tony that by working together and communicating they'd have far better chances than if they didn't. It was a really simple thing, something he was very sure Tony knew but either ignored or forgot because he didn't trust anyone else to keep him safe.

To begin with they simply went in there without any kind of plan. Steve asked JARVIS for a low level of opposition, suitable for unarmed combat. He hadn't given any instructions, other than 'let’s see what happens'. Tony had shrugged and gone along with it, acknowledging that he really ought to use the thing since he'd built it for that purpose.

JARVIS proceeded to run circles around them, even on that setting, and Steve called it quits after around fifteen minutes of Tony getting more and more frustrated.

"Now we go in together," he said. "Stay near me, back to back as much as possible. Keep an eye on me – I'll do the same – make sure we're never separated by more than a few feet. No-one should be able to get between us." He illustrated by moving as he spoke, giving examples of distances and positions. "And talk to me. Let me know what you're seeing, where you're going if you have to move."

Tony nodded, listening closely, which Steve had to grant that he usually did during briefings, even if the instructions were thrown to the wind the moment they were in action. This time, however, with just the two of them to keep track of, Steve could keep Tony focused. The fact that it worked, that they could easily fight off the opposition when they kept near each other and checked in constantly, was a far better lesson than anything Steve could've said.

"Okay, I've got to give you it works. At least when we're fighting like this," Tony said, pulling up his t-shirt and wiping his sweaty brow. The arc reactor on his chest blinked into view, moving with the rise and fall of Tony’s chest, and Steve couldn't help looking at it, that tantalizing blue light. He’d never seen it like that before, free of the armor and out in the open. It was beautiful. "We did all right there."

"Not just all right." Steve shot him a grin, forcing himself to look at Tony's face. "JARVIS, would you tell Mister Stark what the difficulty was this time as opposed to before?"

"Certainly, Captain. It was two levels higher."

"Higher? You aren't kidding me, are you, JARVIS? Because I'll block that ability faster than you can calculate pi with ten billion decimals."

"No, sir. I am not, as you say, kidding. Nor am I lying, fibbing or telling falsehoods."

Tony rolled his eyes. "No need to get snippy."

Steve stood by, arms crossed over his chest, and watched Tony slowly begin to smile as he understood what they'd done.

"So, by staying close to your – fine – ass, I just helped us beat the equivalent of a gang of very good fighters?"

"Yes, Tony." Steve wasn't able to resist smiling back. There was something about Tony when he was enthusiastic and happy, and something very infectious about his smile.

"Well, I'll be damned... Who'd have thought listening to a tactical genius actually works." Tony winked at him and Steve's smile widened. This was one of the things he'd come to appreciate, Tony's way of making dry comments. Not always as smart as Clint's, but wittier, cleverer. Even the flirting seemed to be part of that, of the nature of Tony Stark. Steve doubted Tony could switch it off, even if he should want to. At times he wondered what it must be like to be Pepper Potts and have that full attention directed at you so often, only to see it drift the moment there were more targets for it.

. . .

There was an unexpected lull in activity for the Avengers after the Detroit incident. Only Black Widow and, rarer, Hawkeye had occasional missions, while the others occupied themselves however best they could. Clint seemed both the most frustrated and the most easily distracted during that period. He took to instigating things, some of them better than others. Among the good were social activities, like his game nights, though Steve preferred when the games weren't all electronic – that was one of his disappointments about the 21st century, that no-one seemed to play games that weren’t on a screen any more. The less pleasant ones were things like playing practical jokes on his team mates. At least he had the good sense not to target Bruce, but Steve feared it would happen by accident one day. Besides, after having to save Clint from Thor, it was time for some serious talk, not just with Clint. Everyone had their own reactions and ways of dealing (or not) with the situation, and Steve felt he ought to check up on them.

Bruce considered the quiet a mercy. He worked in the lab he'd claimed as his own, at times with Tony but most often alone, and seemed very pleased with his situation. "As long as the army leaves me alone – no offense, Steve – I'll be fine," he said one night. "It's the first time in years I've had a chance to really work on the gamma effects. With Tony around, we can help each other out on team stuff too and..." He smiled softly. "I just might be content." Immediately a frown appeared. "As long as it lasts." As much as Steve wanted to promise him it would he knew better and just nodded.

Natasha had the inner calm of a saint. She even dealt well with Clint's antics and shrugged most of it off. How she did it, Steve had no idea, but he came to appreciate it and her even more during that period. It was no wonder that she was the only person in the building, aside from Tony, he ever saw Miss Potts interact with. Perhaps there was a special talent for wrangling impatient and cranky heroes, and those two had it and bonded over it.

Tony seemed almost unaffected, though Steve strongly suspected it was one of the times where he kept his thoughts and feelings under wraps. Spending less time out meant that Tony simply reverted to being in his workshop - when Pepper didn't drag him away to the occasional meeting or function. Steve would stop outside his workshop from time to time and just watch him there, mainly because it was fascinating. The way he interacted with his helper robots, the intent look on his face when he was in the middle of something. Tony seemed the happiest when he worked, and most of all when he was doing hands-on work. Steve wanted to draw him like that one day, oil-stained and smiling, with a drink nearby. It seemed to the the essence of Tony, and in Steve’s eyes that was far more charming than any of Tony’s smooth lines.

Thor for his part got moody. He brooded, read books, or joined Steve in trying to figure out recent Earth history - though recent for Thor constituted anything since around the year 1100. He was homesick, Steve concluded, something he could certainly relate to himself.

"Why did you choose to return to Earth?" he asked an afternoon about a week after Detroit, where idleness was starting to wear on everyone. "Not that you have to answer, but I wonder. I know there's Jane, and I can understand that priority, but that can’t be all. So why?"

"I am of use here," Thor said. "In Asgard, I am one of many warriors. I may be the best, but there are hundreds of us, all formidable. Here, I am needed." He looked at Steve, brow furrowed with deep thought. "Once, we took responsibility here. We guided people. Not all, but at least some. We lend them strength and hope and came to their aid in times of dire need. But we stopped doing that when the threats humans faced were no longer of a scale we thought big enough. That was wrong. Look at this!" He gestured to the screen, an all too familiar image showing up.

"Yes. I know." Steve looked at the picture, depicting top SS men. His gut reaction was still one of disgust.

"Yes, my friend." There was soft sympathy in Thor's voice, the understanding of horrible war. "But do you see." He pointed to the room those men were standing in, to the symbols inlaid in the floor, to the decorations. "They thought to use us for their gain. To invoke the power of Asgard in evil actions. The tesseract... that was only one such attempt. The only one that was a true threat, yes, but not for want of trying. You, my friend, are a greater man than even your own people think. What you did in that fight was truly magnificent." Thor's large hand landed on Steve's shoulder, heavy enough that even he felt the weight of it. "But we failed Midgard then. We did before as well, but this was a greater oversight than any other. We owe it to humanity to do what little we can to help again. Help, and not interfere more than is wanted."

This dedication did of course not stop Thor from missing his own people, his family. Just as it didn't stop Steve from looking around and wishing he could see a familiar face. A truly familiar one, not a new and almost. While he and Thor could understand some of each other's plight, it was never the same. In some ways the sense of loss they shared only made it more painful for Steve because it was not the same past they had lost.

Perhaps that was why Tony was the most comforting presence, as illogical as that might be on the surface. He never seemed to look back, only ahead. That he was pushing things away by doing this was obvious to Steve, but it was equally clear that Tony had a passion for the future that Steve wished he could share. Along with an enthusiasm for his work, for science, it all rubbed off on Steve when he spent time listening to him. Steve had always found that if someone was passionate about something it was worth paying attention, whatever it might be they spoke about.

. . . 

Since they were all idle, strange drifts began to happen in the building. People floating around, like ebb and flow. There seemed to be a strange, irregular rhythm to it that no-one had the feel for, a heart-beat slightly out of sync. When looking for someone or something, you'd either find the building seemingly deserted or a lot of people in one place – usually the kitchen or the living room. The only system to it was Clint's sporadic and unplanned nights of entertainment, usually announced by email no earlier than a day in advance.

"Did you ever get anything from that micro-chip," Bruce asked Tony one such evening, loud enough that Steve heard it across the room. Usually Bruce wasn’t loud, but right now he was trying to speak over the sounds of Clint and Natasha teaching Thor to play a game they called "Battlefield". It looked a little too realistic for Steve's taste, but the three of them seemed to be having fun, despite the frequent cries of frustration. At any rate, the question reminded Steve that they had in fact never heard anything about the chip from the squid, and he tuned into the conversation.

"Honestly, it kind of slipped my mind," Tony replied. He and Bruce were comfortably seated at a table towards the side left of the room, in something that would've been a nook had it not consisted mostly of windows overlooking Midtown. "Between the arc plant issues and everything..." He shook his head, turning his glass in his hand, swirling the dark liquid. "But I hadn't found anything distinct at all before that got in the way."

Steve decided to cut in and moved over. "Maybe you should look again," he said. "I mean, if not now when we're less busy, when?"

"Hm." Steve could see Tony's ingrown 'don't tell me what to do' reaction kick in, and then Tony fighting it back. "I guess that's true. Like I said, slipped my mind. Didn't mean to neglect my duties. Captain." If his tone was a little sharp, Steve could forgive it. No-one likes to be told they've missed something that might be important.

"Just a thought," Bruce said, smoothing things over, or trying to. "It's probably not significant, but it can't hurt to look."

"Hm," Tony said again, but he didn't argue. "I'll look tomorrow."

"Think they – whomever they are – can use that technique in higher functioning sentients?" Bruce asked. "That's one thing I want to know, at least."

"You mean humans?" Steve asked.

Bruce nodded. "Yes. Worst case scenario, of course. But if not that, what about other even more dangerous creatures?"

"There's nothing more dangerous than humans," Tony pointed out – and held up a hand before Bruce could cut him off. "I know you meant animals. Just had to be said."

Bruce gave Tony one of his rare, little smiles, tinged with sadness, but still a smile. Steve felt a little pang seeing it. "Not going to argue with that," Bruce said, quietly, in a tone that matched the smile.

Tony winked at him, and Steve wondered what that meant. Yes, Tony flirted with all of them, to various degrees, but he spent a lot more time with Bruce than he did with anyone else – save JARVIS. In fact, Steve wasn't even sure Miss Potts saw as much of him. Something about it irked him, a sensation that there was a potential disaster in that behaviour.

. . .

"Is it me, or are you getting slow, Cap," Tony teased during their training session the day after. "Starting to feel your age?" There was that impish grin and Steve didn't even feel annoyed at the jab this time.

"A little preoccupied, perhaps," he admitted. "But you're doing so much better now, I can actually leave you to fend for yourself once in a while."

"Oh, snap. You _do_ know how to tease. Good." Tony's grin was surprised and pleased, as if he was somehow responsible for Steve's sense of humor. "Doing better, am I?" Steve got the feeling Tony's smile was held a little longer than he felt it.

"You are. Mostly it looks like you actually grasp the concept of teamwork now." He slapped Tony's shoulder, gently, and got a nudge back, as fast as he could've wished for.

"Yeah, yeah..." Tony was brushing him off again. "Say, when we're not doing this – and you're not playing with the others down here – what do you actually do with your time?"

Steve was completely taken by surprise. So far they hadn’t really talked about their lives, it didn’t seem a thing most of them did. "What do you mean?"

"What. Do you do. When you're not. Working." Tony crossed his arms, head cocked slightly to the side, and fixed an unwavering look at Steve.

He shrugged, feeling oddly put on the spot. "I read. At times I even talk to you people outside of this." His gesture encompassed the gym and by association the battle simulator. "I run."

"So I've noticed."

Steve hadn't thought Tony would've noticed what anyone else did. But he nodded anyway. "And walk, actually. I'm... starting to get used to New York again. Or trying to. It’s taking a while."

Tony nodded, slowly. "I suppose it's different. At least you're lucky it's here. A lot of buildings are the same."

"The buildings, yes, but all the signs, the lights, the colors, the smells... the little details of a living city. They're different. I notice that a lot more than I notice things like..." He smiled. "Like this building of yours. Or the new ones down south."

Tony seemed to reflect over that for a moment. "I suppose that makes sense." They moved towards the elevators. "The little things happen gradually. The big ones, like new skyscrapers, are monumental and huge, so they're also relatively rare. Especially in a town like this, where people like the older houses and there's some history to it and all that. It's the same with technology. The monumental discoveries are few and far between, but we make little ones all the time, and they are the ones that are making the bigger difference."

"A monumental discovery made a big difference to me," Steve said, smiling softly.

"Well, you're special." Tony was the one to give Steve's arm a friendly swat this time. "Unique, in fact. The serum, the Tesseract, how you were found..." He shook his head, smiling anyway. "Special in every way..."

Steve felt a little strange about the way Tony looked at him just then. It didn't seem right that he was so blatant about appreciating what he saw; it made Steve feel like he should apologize to Tony’s girlfriend. Though he supposed she was all right with it – and if there were problems, it was between her and Tony and none of his business. It wasn't like it was a look reserved for him either. Still, the attention was like being put under a very bright light, and it took resolve to remain unaffected.

"So where do you go on your trips of rediscovery?" Tony asked as if he'd not just tried to undress Steve with his eyes.

Steve shrugged. "Around. It's a big town." That, and there were parts he was not ready to face yet, and he wasn’t comfortable talking about them either. The elevator arrived and they entered, automatically adjusting positions relative to each other and the door. Steve was pleased when he noticed the ease of it; their work was paying off. "I keep feeling like I'm searching for something and I don't know what it is. Kind of like a dream." He frowned a little; that was more than he'd planned to say.

Tony only nodded as if that made perfect sense. "Want to see some of my favorite places some time?" he asked. "I know they won't be the same as yours, but perhaps it'll give you another way of looking at those spots. Maybe even see a few hidden gems you didn't know about?"

Steve thought about that, long enough that the doors opened. Tony blocked them, standing in the way so Steve couldn't easily get past him. "I wouldn't just go without giving you an answer," Steve pointed out.

Tony stepped back and resorted to just blocking the door with his hand so it wouldn’t close. "Of course," he said, appearing nonchalant. Steve could smell the heat on him, the sweat already present warming up again. Shame. That made it easy to answer. In all the time they’d known each other, he’d noticed shame on Tony less than a handful of times.

"All right," he said, nodding slowly. "Show me your New York. In fact, I think you're right that it'll be a nice way of seeing the town. But why?"

"Why?" Tony looked up to meet Steve's eyes, genuinely puzzled. "Because you walking around, all sad and down, is just plain wrong. You're Captain America. You need to be able to love this place, even now. Or you'll feel..." Tony stopped, letting the sentence hang unfinished. "Never mind. You deserve better. Is that enough?"

Steve nodded, surprised and touched that Tony cared, yet at the same timing feeling like it was right and natural that he did. He had no doubt that the words spoken were true. "More than." He walked out of the elevator, giving Tony's shoulder a squeeze on the way. "When?"

"An hour?" Tony suggested and Steve nodded. Sooner than he'd expected, but it was fine. They had nothing going on right now, and who knew how long that would last? Live in the now, take a leaf out of Tony's book.

The door closed and Tony was gone. "JARVIS, any idea what kind of eventuality I should dress for?" Steve asked.

"I would presume simply for walking, Captain," JARVIS replied. "I believe you would be given fair warning if anything special was preferable."

. . .

An hour later, Steve was waiting in the triple-height lobby of the tower. It was mostly empty at the moment, only a few suit-clad people scattered throughout headed god knew where, making it feel like a large, gaping and cold indoor plaza of steel and glass, a place Steve couldn't imagine ever feeling at ease or welcome. Tony appeared a few minutes later, and Steve noticed the way he seemed to fit into this place, even dressed as he was now, in plain, slightly worn jeans and a faded t-shirt, sunglasses obscuring half his face and giving him the appearance of one of the city's many tourists. There was a natural match between him and the surroundings that had nothing to do with Tony owning the place and everything to do with him being temporally aligned with it somewhere in the near future. Steve, on the other hand, felt out of place almost anywhere. The only exception perhaps being the Avengers actual headquarters, because everyone there was odd and didn't fit in, each in their own way.

"It's good you have that timeless style, Cap," Tony said in greeting. "Or maybe that retro is in. Anyway, you won’t draw too many stares and your face isn't high profile yet. At least not without the cowl." His hand settled comfortably on Steve's shoulder and nudged him towards the doors. "That thing makes your jaw just... pop right out," Tony continued. "Like this you look more human. Which is good. We don't want too many moments of recognition."

"I've only had a few of those so far," Steve said, falling into step with Tony.

"That you know of. I bet we can google candid photos of you and find a bunch. Some people are discreet and polite. Some are not. So far you've been lucky. Or the fact that you're Captain America is intimidating enough."

"People come up to you often?" Steve asked while they left the building.

Tony nodded. "Yep. Not always, but often. I try to blend in when I want to avoid it. Sometimes I cultivate it. It's all a matter of public relations and publicity. You really should pay more attention to those S.H.I.E.L.D. seminars.” Tony winked, clearly kidding; he was the one who never paid attention, after all.

The cranes and scaffolds around Grand Central greeted them outside, and Tony led the way past them and headed west. "We'll get coffee in Bryant Park," he said. "Not that that's a secret in any way – at least it's one everyone's in on – but it's still nice. I need to adjust to being outside, and I want coffee." He glanced up towards the clear sky and the sun, bright but unable to really heat up the unusually cool June day. "It's been a while..."

Steve tried to remember the last time he'd seen Tony leave during the day where it hadn't been in a business suit to a waiting car or plane. "How long is a while?"

"Uh... A week. Maybe two." Tony clearly had no idea. "How long ago was Detroit?"

"Twelve days."

"Two weeks, then."

"So last you were out for real was when we were in Washington?"

"Yep." Tony didn't seem surprised or displeased with that, and it made Steve wonder how one came to be that way. The thought made him feel a little sorry for Tony.

Given that Tony was clearly not one for getting out much, Steve was surprised at what the day brought. He hadn't really formed any expectations about this idea, there hadn't been time, but what he got out of it was not what he'd have thought of at all. On some level he had expected Tony to prattle on about the joys of living in the 21st century, about his own part it in, about the future. But that wasn't what he got. Instead he got something rare and far better: the past. Not far back, but Tony's running commentary was all about things that had already happened. About dates, awkward moments, his mother's shopping habits – all sorts of stories, small and big. Everything from a funny story of a night drinking shots with Rhodey to memories of days with dust in the streets and the fears regular people had in the face of destruction. It was terribly close to home when they could look around right where they lived and see similar traces of mayhem, some of it caused by them.

They ended up in a diner on Nassau street. A real diner, with all the right kinds of food, and even though it looked too polished and there were quite a few businessmen in there, Steve felt like it was just the right place to be. There was something very comforting about the existence of this place, like even though things changed, they hadn't changed that much.

Tony was still chatting along, currently in the middle of an animated tale involving a girl who lived on nearby William Street, and how he'd nearly stepped on her pocket sized dog when trying to leave after a wet and hot night. It was a funny story, but Steve had sort of lost track and was just smiling and nodding, because right now, he felt good. The real, deep inside kind of good. This was like soldiers telling tales of conquests over food and coffee on days of leave. It didn't matter that the tables were polished and neat, that the water smelled faintly of chlorine or that there were people in far too fancy suits next to them. This was like home.

"Thanks, Tony."

Tony stopped, mid-sentence, hands still in the air to illustrate something. He looked dumbfounded and Steve found it impossible not to laugh. "And thanks for that too," he added.

"I'm pretty sure you're welcome, but I'm not sure why thanks are in order," Tony said. If he was a little sore at being laughed at, he hid it well.

"For today." Steve smiled at him, drawing Tony into the warm feeling of the moment. "I've really... had a good time." Tony looked smugly pleased. "You were right, you know. Seeing this town differently helps. I'm not saying it's all good and I'm well adjusted or anything. But having stories to go with places makes a big difference."

That, of course, only made Tony look more satisfied, like the cat that got the cream. He schooled it, though. "Glad it worked," he said, suitably nonchalant. "And it's good to know my babbling hasn't been wasted. Honestly, I couldn't tell if you were actually listening or just humoring me."

"Not just." The corners of Steve's mouth twitched and it only took Tony a split second to register it and grin at him.

"Sly bastard. No wonder you cleaned out Clint last time he tried playing cards with you."

Steve grinned this time. "For some reason, people think that a belief in honesty means you can't bluff."

"Oh, how wrong they are..." Tony winked. "Though people also seem to believe that an ability to bend the truth means you can't be honest."

"That's different."

"Is it, though? I mean, I know about crying wolf and building trust and all that. But I actually don't lie outright. Well, it happens of course, but it's rare. I just..." he wagged his hand, "bend truth or use it selectively."

"That doesn't exactly build trust." Steve fiddled with his cup. "But for what it's worth, I believe I can trust you when it counts. The rest of the time... You have to work on that."

Something in the way Tony met his eyes told Steve that a challenge had been accepted.


	7. Chapter 7

Tony put in a few hours in the workshop after he and Steve returned to the tower. He was determined to get that chip to give up its secret, whatever kind it may be. There had to be clues to who made it somewhere; clues that would most likely also point to the person or persons who thought to implant it in giant squid.

"JARVIS, did S.H.I.E.L.D. ever send over any more of those chips?" he asked, eye to the microscope. He had a feeling he might have asked someone to do that - it not, he should do it.

"We have two more, sir," JARVIS said. "They should be cataloged under the incident number, but I believe you left them below the sink in a moment of distraction."

Tony went and looked, and sure enough, there was a small evidence bag with two microchips in it tucked in under the pipes. "Thanks, JARVIS. With you around, who needs a filing system?" This meant he could destroy one of them and still have material to work with, as soon as he was certain they were identical.

Any test he could make without smashing one indicated they were, so Tony went about pulling one of them entirely apart to test wiring, alloys and nano materials. It was slow and nit-picky work. He preferred larger objects – or programming – to this kind of computer engineering, but he was the best person they had for it, so he'd better do it and make an effort.

"JARVIS, log the shape of the nano tubes and see if you can cross-reference any known manufacturers." Tony barely heard JARVIS' reply, but registered it was an affirmative. His thoughts kept drifting while he worked, like dual tracks of sound in his mind, mixing rather than competing. Mostly he kept thinking about what Steve had said today.

The training was one thing; Tony could live with that and could even see the point, especially now that they were making real progress. "JARVIS, make a note that I need to look at the programming for the danger room later on. We need more nuance." Another was the way Steve acted when they were alone.

His spectrometer gave a beep and pulled him back to the task. "Oh. Now that's interesting..." Next to him, Dummy made a whirring noise, it's question sound. "I don't think a lot of places could make this... JARVIS?"

"Adding that to cross-reference of nano tubes," JARVIS said.

"I knew I did something right with your coding."

"Thank you, sir."

Tony swiveled on the chair, leaned back and looked at the ceiling. Late dusk light was dancing on the white plaster, making patterns that defied yet invited intepretation. Steve Rogers. Why did everyone, even Tony, want to make him proud? It couldn't all be the whole respect for the uniform thing. He wasn't _in_ uniform most of the time, yet Tony wanted to prove himself to him. Aside from his usual competitive streak. It was annoying to have that urge towards a man who was effectively close to half his age - which might make him hotter, but not smarter. There was just something about Steve. Ever since the team back together when Thor returned, Tony had wondered about this, though perhaps not as explicitly as now. Steve had organically been established as leader, at least in the field, and they all seemed to seek his approval. Now he was even invading Tony’s research time.

Research time, yes. Tony forced the thought of the strange influences of Captain Rogers from his mind. Whatever it was with Steve might be a fascinating subject, but it wasn't what he was here for. JARVIS was searching for matches, and Tony had other things to do. That was the best thing of this quiet period they were having: he'd had time to start what would take the Iron Man suit to the next level of development, and now he had time to check the progress.

Tony brought up the keyboard and pulled the files. Somewhere in Georgia a biotech lab owned by a Stark subsidiary was putting together a delivery method for gene therapy using a virus. They had tested on simians two months ago and so far everything looked very promising. They would try to deliver an actual genetic modifier soon, and if that worked, the possibilities were endless. Near Seattle a branch of Stark Industries was working on a way to rewire nerves to accept direct interfacing with machines. The nominal application was to help physically disabled or paralyzed people by giving them switches – activated by thought – that could open and close doors, move beds, that sort of thing – perhaps even control a prosthetic limb. Tony had far more wide-reaching ideas for it. This was also progressing, looking better than expected, and the first human tests – using chips not unlike the one he'd just dismantled – were successful. The last bit of the puzzle, the really tricky one, was getting nano materials to work with it.

Tony rubbed his face. All the parts were doing fine so far, but putting them together the way he had in mind would have to be a one time only thing. This was for him, for Iron Man, and no-one else. The risks were too great, to him personally and everyone else. Like the armor tech, he couldn't let this fall into anyone else's hands, not even a single trusted person like Rhodey. His tech had already been used against him, against innocent civilians, and Tony’s nightmares featured thoughts of what could happen should it be spread wider. This thing he was working on was taking technology to its extremes. If (when) he implemented it, he had to be absolutely sure it wouldn’t be adopted by any other party, and the safest way to do that was using a prototype and subsequently destroying any trace of it.

The time for this upgrade was already moving closer. Soon he'd be able to bring the parts together, and after that.. The thought of what would happen scared him, made him doubt himself again and again, but not beyond knowing it was his best chance to keep going, beyond what his body would currently let him. Not only would it eliminate the delay he was experiencing, it might boost him beyond that, beyond the tug of weight in his chest. Each time he thought it over, the conclusion remained the same. He needed to do this, and he’d damn well show them - _show Steve_ \- what Tony Stark was capable of. If it worked as intended he’d be able to respond better to the threats against himself and the company, not just work better with the team, meaning that Pepper could hardly fault him. In doing this, he’d create an edge for himself that no-one else possessed, be ahead of the game again.

"Sir, we have a possible match."

The words pulled him out of his thoughts, a welcome distraction. Tony looked up, and the words on the screen were so surprising he shook his head, rubbed his eyes and looked again. "You're sure about this, JARVIS?" For once, he actually hoped JARVIS had made a mistake.

"Yes, sir. But I will run the check once more."

"Please. Don't wake me, but I'll look at the result in the morning. And keep looking for manufacturers."

"As you wish, sir."

. . .

Tony's mind was still preoccupied when he reached his apartment, and his feet took him to the bar on autopilot. Thoughts were whirling, mixing, a state that could as often lead to new discovery as it could to fatigue and dissatisfaction. He swirled the scotch in his glass, chewing his lip. Was he taking it too far? _No_ , a stronger voice said. Not too far. Perhaps not far enough. _Are you sure it will be enough?_ He downed the contents of the glass and filled it again, sipping slowly this time. _But what will Steve think of going to those lengths? Won't he want you to be better as yourself?_. This _is_ myself, Tony thought. Perhaps more me than anything else I've ever done or been. I didn't decide to get hit by shrapnel, to need a suit of armor or a reactor in my chest. This... this is my choice. _I_ am doing this. For myself, yes, so it's selfish, but it's not just for me. This is for all of us, the Avengers, the future, whole nine yards – even for America.

He put the glass down with more force than intended – it was empty again – and nodded. Decision made, once and for all, doubt locked away behind mental bars. Now all he had to do was wait for the components to be ready. Of course, waiting was the one thing he'd never been good at and didn't seem to be able to learn. He was used to constant shifts, progress, movement, and that was the way he preferred his world. Waiting was boring, but he could do it when he needed to. At least there were practice sessions, maybe they'd do some team stuff soon, off or on duty. With those, he was getting a baseline for how he was doing now. Better get a health check too, just to be safe. He chewed his lip, trying to decide if he could trust Bruce not to ask too many questions or if he needed to find someone.

Something moved in his peripheral vision and Tony spun around, ready to call the armor. A deep breath left him when he saw a familiar shape. "Pepper." All the tension left him, and he set the glass down and went to greet her. "Didn't see you there."

"Oh, I know you didn't. I've been here the whole time." There was a hurt note in her voice, and he couldn't blame her.

"Sorry." He ran a hand across his eyes. "I was... preoccupied. Thinking. There's a lot of research right now. I..." He looked at her properly; she looked tired - no, exhausted, downtrodden even. "Never mind. How are you? You look like our stock hit bottom or something."

He reached for her hands and she let him take them, even squeezed back when he did. "Tired," she admitted. "The stock is doing all right, but... the plant, Tony, the one that got attacked. It’s still not operational.. I’m worried we’ll have a serious set-back."

A stab of guilt went through him. After being so intent on fixing it himself, he’d completely forgot about the issue. To be fair, he had taken Pepper’s advice on letting their experts deal, but still… "Still? But… I was sure they had it fixed." A lot hinged on that plant, not least the implementation of arc reactor technology for energy production at a larger scale. There was also the side-production of the small models for Tony’s personal use, but those were less vital in the grand scheme of things.

"Did you completely miss all the updates?" She shook her head, giving him an unreadable look. "They gave up on clearing out the virus, I don’t understand all the details. You would, though...” Tony felt like avoiding her look, but fought the impulse. “Today they decided we need a complete reinstall of all the production software and changing some of the computer hardware too, since apparently an upgrade at the same time makes sense."

"It does make sense…” He was partly on autopilot, focusing on problem solving rather than rationalizing something that had already happened. “When can they start production again? What can I do?” He was ready to jump into the Iron Man suit and go wherever needed if it would make a difference.

"Probably at least another week. I doubt you can do much. But maybe you should check." If her voice was a little sharp at the end there, he couldn’t fault her for it.

"Thank fuck it’s not going to be even longer." He pulled Pepper closer, she probably needed a hug about now. There was a faint reluctance, and then she was hugging him back, resting her head against his shoulder. "I'm sorry I wasn't here," he whispered. "I should've been more involved.”

"I could've called you if I wanted," she pointed out. "You were working."

But he hadn't been, not all day. He'd been out with Steve, having a great time, and Pepper had been dealing with this. "Well, yeah..." And why he didn't just tell her that he couldn’t tell, but something made him keep it to himself, a reluctance to share somehow. "I could've finished up earlier. The last things I did weren't that pressing." 

She pulled back and cupped his cheek. "You couldn't know, because I didn't tell you. So stop being silly and blaming yourself." She kissed him softly. "But you need to start making some spare parts..." She tapped the arc reactor in his chest, the soft clink of her nail on it making him shudder a little. There was something very intimate about that touch, tinged with his own sense of vulnerability. Being touched there would always remind him of Obediah, yet the intimacy, that it was her doing it, had its own very different connotations.

"I'll get on it first thing," he promised. That was something he could do for her. Not that he was likely to need the parts, but he knew that if they weren't at hand, she'd be worried. Making a few parts would spare her that worry, and he owed her as much.

"See that you do, or I'll sic Steve Rogers on you," she teased.

Tony felt like he might blush. "He's not my dad, you know," he said. "Even though he sounds like him sometimes. Just... not drunk - and far taller."

"No." She looked at him with a soft smile in her eyes. "But he's the kind of man we all want impress. He’s a good, decent person, and because of that, his opinion matters to people who aspire to the same. Which is a lot of people, thankfully. Even you." She poked him in the side, and he smiled, meeting her eyes. Such a simple sentence and yet Tony hadn't been able to figure it out for himself. Steve was mixed up with so many other things in Tony’s life that he couldn’t see him clearly, but Pepper could, the brilliant woman.

"So of course you use his goodness to threaten me," he said, smile growing warmer. "Makes sense."

She kissed him softly, almost too gently. "I need something to keep you in line. And I doubt the boogeyman ever worked on you, Tony."

It never had. Tony was struck by the sudden realization that as flawed a father as his dad had been, he'd never tried to scare Tony into anything. Not even when he'd been an impressionable child, not even when Howard had some very real monsters to use. Something flipped in his mind and came down in a different order. Howard Stark had been up against Hydra too. Between working with Steve and the resurfacing of the energy weapons, the past was making itself present, encroaching on his space.

The thought slipped away from him again, because Pepper was saying something about dinner, that he didn't quite catch. His stomach did, however, and growled.

"When did you last eat?" she asked him.

"Uh... Early afternoon, I think." He wasn't exactly sure of the time he and Steve had been at the diner, but sometime between noon and four pm. In his defense, it had been a generous meal. "What time is it now?" The fact that it was dark outside didn't bode well.

She gave him an admonishing look. "It's nearly eleven. Come on. We have leftovers, that'll do fine. Better than you falling asleep or forgetting while waiting for anything to arrive."

. . .

The check JARVIS had run overnight was the third thing Tony looked at the following morning. The first was Pepper, who was asleep when he snuck out of bed, the second a cup of coffee, and finally he got the results up on his tablet while waiting for the toaster. The sun spilling into his kitchen, the smell of coffee and toasting bread – it was idyllic. Which made the news all the more eerie.

Tony sat down and looked the results over again, enlarged the analyses, checked the atomic structure and the nano tubes. It matched as well as it had yesterday. "JARVIS, get Rogers on the phone for me."

Moments later, Steve's voice filled the room, warming it a little again. "Tony? Why are you calling?"

"I know it's a little early and I could just come knock on your door, but... I think we all need to meet. I got some results from that chip and... yeah. Permission to gather the team?"

"Of course. How soon?" Tony could hear the alert in Steve's voice and imagined him sitting up straight now. Which meant he might've been lying down before. He wondered what a completely relaxed Steve Rogers would look like. Even in the lounge, Steve always looked like he was wound up enough to jump into action any moment.

"I'm not saying we have to do it right this instant, but definitely today. It's not like it's very new news, and so far it's been quiet, but-"

"I get it," Steve said. "I'll get everyone together in an hour."

"Thanks."

"No problem. You could just do it yourself, you know."

"I know. But I figure they listen better when it's you."

There was a moment of silence. "I don't mind being the herder, but I don't want anyone to feel they have to go through me. I'd rather it was clear we trust each other to show up when one of us needs it. They would come, you know that, right?"

Tony had to concede that point. "I do..."

"Good. See you later then."

"See ya'."

A shuffling sound made him turn around. "Who was that?" Pepper asked, coming through the doorway.

"Steve. I got some results overnight that we need to look at, all of us."

She nodded. "As long as you remember to do what you promised last night as well."

What had he promised? Oh, right, the arc! Fuck. He might have to tell the others about that as well. Steve, at least. Damn. He might pull Tony off the team until he was safe, unless he phrased this the exact right way.

"Don't worry, I will," he said. "Right after the meeting."

She poured coffee for herself and stole one of his pieces of toast. "Good." He didn't mind, especially not since she looked adorable right now, in one of his t-shirts, mussed hair glowing like gold in the bright sunlight.

"I'd better look over the reports from the plant too," he mused. "Double-check." In his mind, he was already making a numbered list in order of priority, cataloging the most pressing tasks of the day. "An hour. I could look now." He brought up the report on his tablet; there was time to get this done and still grab a shower before meeting the team.

A minute or two later, he remembered that Pepper had been there and looked for her, but she'd already gone. Listening carefully, he could hear water running somewhere and left her to it.

A little over half an hour was all it took to make a cursory check of the reports and decide that the on-site team was in fact handling it pretty well. There wasn’t much he’d be able to add right now, so better leave them to it and focus on things where he made a real difference.

Back in the bedroom, Pepper was ready to leave. "You look fancy today. Big plans?" He pulled off his t-shirt while talking, and when he looked again she'd turned away to put on earrings. He could see her face in the mirror, a distracted and tired look on it.

"Important ones. There's talk of a committee to look into the safety of the arc reactor technology. I'm hoping to be able to stop it before it goes very far, so I'm off to DC to do some in-person lobbying."

"Don't we have people for that? And what do you mean safety? It's the safest damn energy source we have right now!"

The look she gave him in the mirror was a little too tired. "Wind and solar," she reminded him. "And we do have people, but I need to be there for this. It's too big and important to leave to others."

"No-one wants those," Tony said, waving off the idea. "Windmills are ugly as hell and take up space. They’re noisy too. Solar panels are as ugly and on people's houses. Americans want the world to be pretty and convenient and full of cheap energy. Just you wait. Tell 'em we can potentially make cars run on this shit and they'll love you."

"As long as the oil lobby hasn't got there first..."

It was an excellent point. "Yeah. Well, they won’t last forever either, and everyone knows it. No matter how much money they spend to convince the gullible of the opposite."

She was by his side and patted his shoulder. "You have a tendency to forget inconvenient things, Tony. Which includes your own safety."

"I will make those parts. I promise."

She smiled. "At least this time you knew what I meant. So I believe you."

"And you didn't before?" He was just a little hurt by that.

"I believe you meant it, but not necessarily that you'd remember." She kissed his cheek. "Be good. Don't tease the other kids. And I'll see you tonight."

There were so many comebacks he could've made to that, but he let them go in favor of kissing her goodbye. "See you. Take care."


End file.
